


The Librarian

by EveningStarcatcher



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Attempted Murder, Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), F/M, Female Aziraphale (Good Omens), Gabriel is a jerk, Human AU, Hurt/Comfort, Librarian Aziraphale, Male Crowley (Good Omens), Mutual Pining
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-28
Updated: 2020-02-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 09:27:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 26
Words: 37,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22428985
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EveningStarcatcher/pseuds/EveningStarcatcher
Summary: Azira Fell is a librarian living a very normal and somewhat boring life when a stranger with dark glasses and red hair bursts into her life. Now to find out who he is and what he was running from...
Relationships: Anathema Device/Newton Pulsifer, Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 77
Kudos: 100





	1. Prologue

** _Prologue: _ **

_ He ran down the street, stealing glances over his shoulder as often as he could. He choked, sputtering as he struggled to breathe. He could still feel the smoke in his lungs and fought against his body’s need to stop and rest. He pressed on, pushing his way into a crowd of tourists, hoping to lose his pursuers as he weaved through the pedestrian traffic, but he was sure the trail of people cursing at him wouldn’t help his plight.  _

_ Cries of “Oi!”, “Hey!”, and “The fuck, man?” were a steady stream behind him as he felt his body slowing, the burning in his legs almost too much to bear. He looked back and saw grimy white hair bobbing above the crowd and knew that the slightly less greasy dark hair would be just a few inches below and behind. _

_ He was growing desperate. He had barely escaped once already today and he knew a second escape was much less likely, but he couldn’t give up. He had to keep going. _

_ He dashed across the street, unaware of the red of the crossing sign warning him against continuing on his current path. He barely avoided an early grave as the traffic moved around him, horns beeping and drivers cursing him as he went. He knew he looked like a madman and he couldn’t find it in him to care. He knew his pursuers would have heard the beeps and yelling of traffic and that it would take them just a few moments to follow his direction, so he threw himself into the first business he saw. He shoved the door shut roughly behind him, sprinted across the room, vaulted over a countertop and landed with a thud on the floor. _

_ He leaned his head back against a shelf and put his hand on his chest, feeling his racing heart and willing his lungs to fill with air that wasn’t clouded with smoke and debris.  _

_ He opened his eyes and they grew wide.  _

_ He wasn’t alone. _


	2. Part One

Azira Fell straightened her tartan bowtie and tightened the pale blue ribbon in her hair. She sighed as she stared at herself in the mirror, giving herself a small grimace as she ran her fingers through the blonde curls. They absolutely refused to sit right at her shoulders, no matter how hard she tried.

“Just another day,” she muttered to herself, focused on the reflection of her blue eyes, which were somewhat clouded. She was tired and it was more than the fact that she was up late reading. She enjoyed her quiet life, her work at the library, collecting books and sharing knowledge with the open minds that wandered into her doors, but lately she had been feeling like something was missing. She had been searching for that missing piece, researching, traveling, setting up interviews with scholars in all fields, and yet she was no closer to finding the answer. All she knew for certain was that there was a hole in her and it felt heavy, a steady weight, like water on your chest, constricting breath and causing the heart to pound, fighting for air, for oxygen to pump to the limbs and organs held down and nearly immobile. 

She glanced at the clock, gasped, and took off toward the door. She bounded down the stairs, nearly tripping over her own feet. She made it to the first floor without incident, ran through the backroom, past the checkout counter, and to the front door. She flipped the sign to “open” and unlocked the door just as the grandfather clock struck the hour. She stepped back and steadied herself against the towering shelf of biographies, leaning her back against the cool wood and rearranging the pleats of her tartan skirt. The little bell above the door jingled and she pushed herself up to standing, smiled warmly and felt her stomach drop.

“Good, you’re open on time today. I was worried the tardiness was becoming a habit.” A tall man entered, dressed in a sharp suit and long grey coat. He was clean cut and square jawed, handsome and terribly intimidating. He was glancing at his pocket watch, then placing it back into his pocket and turned his attention to the shelves, eyes sweeping across the room.

“Good morning, Gabriel,” Azira pasted a smile on her face. “How are you?”

“Fine, just here to take a quick look around,” he swept past her without a greeting or a glance, scrutinizing the layout, the books, the homey touches that Azira had collected carefully and displayed with pride. He worked his way around the circular room, weaving between the shelves, stopping at the checkout counter. It was a gorgeous dark cherry wood octagonal desk with floral carvings along the side and a hinged counter that could be lifted for entry and exit.

Gabriel warily picked up a beautifully crafted antique trinket box of gold and royal blue, flourishes and swirls of white curling around its curved sides, almost protectively. He lifted it to his eyes, frowned and replaced it gingerly next to the stamp pad. He continued his circuit, running his hands along the spines of the books of poetry and pulled a few out of the shelves of Shakespeare, leafed through them, and threw them back on the shelf without care. Azira hurried as silently as she could, replacing the books with care and whispering kindly to them when she was sure Gabriel was too far away to hear.

He finished his sweep and returned to the front door with one final look over the room. He stood silently for a few moments, during which Azira wrung her hands in front of her.

“How-” she began softly.

“Everything seems to be in order,” he said flatly, opening the door. “You should dust more often.” 

The door swung closed with a thud and a tinkle of the bell and Azira exhaled in relief. 

She hated when Gabriel dropped by, especially unannounced. Last time he had shown up the door had been locked and Azira had been at the desk, thoroughly absorbed in a book. She had been certain that she had unlocked the door, yet it had remained locked until Gabriel had pounded on the door and yelled to her. She had received quite a lecture for that, but it wasn’t the first time she’d heard it. She was constantly being berated by him, comments about the cleanliness of the library, the unique way she organized the books on the shelves, the special trinkets she set out, and most of all, her appearance. 

Azira didn’t care too much about looks. She looked presentable and put together and that was what mattered. She never paid much attention to fashion trends, preferring to stick to her vintage clothes in pastels and creams and the occasional tartan pattern. But Gabriel’s comments often went beyond the outdated outfits, choosing to share his opinions on the unruliness of her hair, the too large smile, soft curves of Azira’s body, which did not meet Gabriel’s standards of slim, toned, immaculate, and distant. Azira much preferred being friendly, despite being an introvert. 

She passed by another small mirror hung on the wall and attempted to smooth her hair, but gave up after a minute, adjusting the tan vest over her button down shirt. She crossed to the desk and slipped inside, closing the hatch behind her. She laid out her stamps in front of her and carefully turned the dials to adjust the dates - two weeks for regular books, one week for reference volumes, and three days for special tomes that Azira couldn’t bear to be apart from for very long. She carefully placed the stamps into their holder and checked the stamp pad, making sure it wasn’t dry. Pleased, she swung the lid shut and turned her attention to her daily literature calendar. She carefully ripped the previous day’s sheet off and read the new quote, typed elegantly to the right of the date. 

_ Not a soul  
_ _But felt a fever of the mad and played  
_ _Some tricks of desperation. All but mariners  
_ _Plunged in the foaming brine and quit the vessel,  
_ _Then all afire with me. The king’s son, Ferdinand,  
_ _With hair up-staring—then, like reeds, not hair—  
_ _Was the first man that leaped, cried, “Hell is empty  
_ _And all the devils are here.”_

** _Act 1, Scene 1_ ** ** _  
_ ** ** _The Tempest by William Shakespeare_ **

Azira chuckled a dry laugh. “The devils are here indeed,” she muttered, straightening the trinket box that Gabriel had picked up. Satisfied, she turned to a stack of books on the right side of the desk.

These were new arrivals, bright, crisp, and yet undiscovered treasures that needed cataloguing and return date cards before they could be shelved and recommended to eager minds. She reached for a card in their usual spot, but her hand found only the smooth surface of the desk. She frowned, not remembering when she used the last card, then kneeled, searching the shelf for the box that held them, rifling through three incorrect boxes before locating the correct one.

She heard the bell jingle and the door slam as she was replacing the lid, still kneeling behind the counter, and huffed to herself. There was a sign, very neatly printed in lovely curving letters, on the front window asking patrons to close the door gently behind them, which had clearly been ignored. Azira heard a grunt and a thud and turned to the source of the noise. She was shocked to find a man sitting there, hand on his heaving chest. He suddenly became aware of her presence and she was face to face with a pair of very wide golden eyes.


	3. Part 2

“Hey,” the man said with a charming grin. He seemed surprisingly casual, given the situation, lounging against the shelves as if this were a perfectly normal thing for him to do.

Azira wanted to demand answers, to ask if this was a habit of his, dropping into confined spaces with strangers and acting quite gallant about it. “Hello,” was all she could squeak out.

She took a deep breath, still recovering from the sudden appearance of this man. A  _ handsome _ man. Slim with a mischievous grin and sharp cheekbones. He wore dark clothes, black layered on black, with a thin grey tie loosely thrown over the black shirt. His red hair was windswept, some curls coming loose from his bun and hitting his shoulders gently.

“You okay?” his voice, low and smooth, startled her back to reality.

“Of course, why wouldn’t I be?” She could feel the heat rising in her cheeks. This too close proximity could hardly be considered polite and was definitely not proper, especially when they were alone in the shop. Gabriel had often warned her to be careful with men in the shop, especially if she was alone.

“You look…” he trailed off, tilting his head to one side and looking at her. 

“What?” she blurted out, wishing she didn’t need to hear the end of the sentence as much as she did. She couldn’t seem to focus, the wires in her brain seemed inexplicably twisted and thoughts came only in fragments. The golden eyes that peered into hers, the red hair that looked terribly soft, Gabriel’s warning, that crooked grin...

“Shocked, a bit. And adorable,” he added with a wink.

She could feel the heat of his focus, the radiance of his smile, the sincerity of his statement, and without planning to she shot up to standing. Or at least she tried. She got halfway up before realizing that her feet weren’t under her. She pitched to one side, grabbing blindly for the desk, but made no contact with anything solid. She braced herself to hit the floor, but there was no impact. Thin, strong arms wrapped around her waist and lifted her to her feet.

She opened her eyes and found herself once again staring into the beautiful golden eyes of this stranger, smiling down on her. Now that he was standing, Azira was surprised that he had seemed so small before, all curled up and folded in on himself. He was nearly half a foot taller than her, lanky, yet strong. His chin was tilted down to look at her, the same cheeky grin spread across his features and he reached out to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear, which sent a small shiver down her back. She wasn’t used to any sort of touching, especially not one that felt as intimate as that, as if he had known her for years and enjoyed taking care of her.

“Couldn’t let you fall for me,” he set her back on her own feet and stepped back. “At least not yet.” He chuckled to himself and then his features became hard as a noise from outside invaded the quiet of the library. He turned to the door and held up a hand to signal Azira to stay quiet. She took advantage of the opportunity to straighten her clothes and steady her breathing. If Gabriel were to come back into the library at this moment, she would have a terrible time explaining why this man was here at all, why he was in the desk with her, and why she looked quite disheveled so close to him. 

“Shit,” he whispered, turning back to her, holding her by her shoulders. His eyes were wide, sharp, and pleading. “I need your help. I’m sorry for dragging you into this, but there are two guys looking for me. Don’t worry, I didn’t do anything wrong, well, not this time. I just need you to pretend you’ve never seen me and get them to leave. Do anything, say anything, just get them to leave. I’ll explain it all later. I promise”

Azira could only nod. She could see the goodness in this stranger and she couldn’t help but believe him. She decided in that moment that she would do whatever it took to help him.

“Thanks. You’re an angel.” He squeezed her shoulders and dropped back down to hide. 

Azira turned back to her stack of books, dazed. She opened one, staring at the inside cover. “Oh, would you mind?” She turned to the man and held out her hand, gesturing to a small stack of cards on the shelf beside him, forgotten with his appearance. He reached across, took hold of them, and held them out to her. “Why thank you, my dear.”

“No problem,” he whispered, then winced as he heard the bell over the door jingle.

“Good morning, gentlemen. Is there something I can help you with?” Azira kept her voice steady and light, greeting them as she would greet any patron of her library. She shuffled through the cards to keep her hands steady.

“Depends,” the tall one said roughly, his voice gravelly. “Have you seen anyone shifty come in here?”

“Tall, red hair, always wears black,” the shorter one volunteered.

“Yeah, that,” the tall one said, elbowing the other in the side. He clearly wanted to be in charge. “Seen him?” He flashed a hideous smile that sent a shiver down Azira’s spine.

“I’m afraid I haven’t seen anyone of that description. In fact, you’re the first patrons of the day,” Azira said cheerfully, peeling the adhesive strip off of one of the cards and placing it into the book with great care. It wouldn’t do to have a crooked card all because she was being vaguely threatened by two men while lying for a complete stranger. She has standards. “Is there anything else I can help you find?” She closed the book and faced the men, taking mental descriptions in case the police needed to be involved. The tall one was grimy, with stringy white hair and dark eyes. He wore an old, ragged trenchcoat and smelled of sewer. The other was slightly less grimy with dark hair, a few inches shorter than his companion. He wore a long, dark leather jacket with fur trim around the neck. “Perhaps a good mystery novel? I’ve got all the classics as well as some more contemporary works.” Azira gestured to the shelves that stored the beloved books, eager to get them away from the desk. “You two strike me as the type to enjoy a good mystery.”

She nearly jumped when she felt a hand on her leg, the lightest of touches, but unexpected. She cleared her throat loudly to cover her yelp and knocked a book off the counter.

“Oh! Clumsy me, feel free to look around!” She gave the men a smile and ducked down.

“Don’t invite them to stay!” the man hissed, looking panicked.

“They won’t, I know their type,” Azira assured in her quietest voice. “As soon as you suggest they  _ read _ they’ll make an excuse and leave. Besides, I have to treat them as I would any other patron or they’ll be suspicious.”

The man pulled his lips into a tight line, but nodded. If she was expected to trust him, he had to extend the same courtesy. Azira nodded back to him and stood once again, holding the book up, as if in a small victory. The two men were still standing by the desk, looking around, shifting uncomfortably.

“Do you need help finding something in particular, gentlemen?” 

She heard a snigger from the desk and she kicked the man gently, slamming the book onto the desk to cover the sound.

“No. But if he comes by, tell him we’ll find him. He can’t hide from us,” the tall one sneered and headed toward the door.

“Do you have any Agatha Chris-” the shorter one began.

“Come on!” the other called from the open door.

“Coming!” he barked, his face pulling into the most unpleasant expression Azira had ever seen. He turned on his heel and stalked out the door after his companion.

As soon as the door slammed Azira slumped her back against the desk and let out a breath. The man burst into laughter.


	4. Part 3

“What is so funny?” Azira crossed her arms. “You almost gave yourself away!”

“Gentlemen? Those two?” He stood and slid himself to sit on the countertop, head thrown back in laughter. 

“I had to be professional! I couldn’t call them hooligans, now could I?”

“You really are an angel!” He flashed another of those crooked smiles at her. She internally scolded her heart for stopping and her lungs for forgetting how to breathe.

“I suppose I must be, to be helping you Mr. -” she let her question hang.

“Crowley,” he held out his hand. “Anthony Crowley, but no one calls me Anthony.”

Azira took his hand and shook it. “Mr. Crowley. Nice to meet you. I’m Azira. Azira Fell.”

“Azira? Even sounds like an angel’s name.” Crowley laughed again, clear and bright and contagious.

“Rather,” she smiled. “Now, what was that all about? You promised me an explanation.”

“Not here. Let’s do lunch.” Crowley spun himself around, shifted forward, and jumped down from the counter, landing gracefully on the floor outside of the desk.

“Lunch?” Azira asked, glancing at the clock. “I just opened.”

“I can wait,” he shrugged.

“Oh, well, there’s a reading corner just there,” she pointed to the far corner of the room, hidden from the window. “Make yourself comfortable.”

“Thanks.” The way he crossed the room couldn’t be described as walking, at least not as Azira had ever seen it. It was more of a saunter, almost dance-like, his hips swaying in a graceful manner as he moved. He flopped into one of the wingback chairs, legs thrown over one arm, pulled a cell phone from the pocket of his extremely tight trousers and began to scroll.

As Azira worked she could feel his eyes on her, watching her as she moved around the shelves, returning books to their proper place and pulling certain volumes down for maintenance and care. It was difficult for her to concentrate, knowing his attention was on her. She had never been given much attention, except from Gabriel, but that was always unwanted and usually unkind. This wasn’t exactly unwanted, just new. This man, Anthony Crowley, was mysterious and possibly a great deal of trouble, but he was charming and kind. Angel, he had called her. She was far from it, but she couldn’t pretend she didn’t like that that’s how he saw her. _ Angel _...

“What’s that for?” Crowley asked, suddenly standing behind her.

“What?” She spun around to face him. Where she expected to see golden eyes she found black glasses blocking her view.

“Your smile, what’s it for?”

“Smile?” she repeated vaguely, wondering when the sunglasses had been added. It seemed silly to put them on indoors, but it also felt like a shield, a protective barrier.

“Yeah. You started smiling just then. What made you smile?” he crossed to her side and leaned his hip and one elbow against the bookshelf, his head resting on his hand.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Azira tried to push the blush away from her cheeks. _ Angel _...

“Okay. You don’t have to tell me. It’s just a nice smile,” Crowley ran a hand through his hair and pushed away from the shelf. 

“Thank you,” Azira couldn’t hide the blush that rose this time. “You’ve added glasses.”

“Oh, yeah. Found ‘em by the desk. Must have fallen off when I jumped over,” he tapped the side of one lens. It was a strange design, with what looked like small metal grates extending from the outer edge of the frames to hide his eyes from all angles. “Good thing those two idiots didn’t search the place or your wonderful performance would have been all for naught.”

“What would they have done to you?” Azira spoke softly, her features moving too close to worry for Crowley’s comfort.

“Nothing serious. Lunch?” 

The glasses were most definitely a barrier, closing him off, hiding his expression, distancing him from the things he didn’t want to discuss. 

“We just went over this. Not yet.” Azira placed her hands on her hips. “I’ve got a long list of things to get done today.”

“That was hours ago, angel.”

“Hours ago?” Azira’s stomach flipped at the casual use of the term of endearment.

“Yeah, hours.” Crowley jabbed a thumb in the direction of the clock and Azira gasped. He was right. Hours had passed while she had been lost in her thoughts and attempting to cross a few things off her to-do list. “Lunch?” He offered his arm.

“Sure,” she blinked at him. “Let me close up!” She hurried around the room, organizing the books she would take care of after lunch, hit the light switch to off, and flipped the sign to closed. Crowley was already waiting by the door, elbow out for her to take.

“Ready?” His free hand was on the doorknob.

“Almost.” She stood by the door, motionless, staring at him, breathing as if she were preparing for a herculean task, not a nice lunch with a handsome stranger.

“Okaaay?” Crowley’s brows were raised in question, his offered arm dropped to his side and swung limply.

“Why do you want to take me to lunch?” She blurted out, before she lost her nerve.

“I told you, angel, you saved my ass, you deserve lunch,” he shrugged.

“And an explanation.”

“Yes. Lunch and an explanation.” He offered his arm again, but Azira didn’t move.

“You could do that here. Explain. Order in. Why out?” She couldn’t help but think of all the lectures Gabriel had given her about being safe, not talking to strangers, not being taken to a secondary location...

“We could, if you wanted to,” he shrugged. I just thought you’d be more comfortable out in public with other people around.”

Azira was shocked by that. He was extremely considerate, worrying about what would make her most comfortable. He had also stayed away from her all morning, giving her space, never making her feel that he was a threat.

“Look, I know this is a lot. Maybe you’re right not to trust me, but I promise I’m not going to hurt you and I promise I won’t let anyone else hurt you either.”

“You won't?

“No! You’re not part of this. Well, you are now, but that’s my fault.” Crowley’s hand rubbed nervously at the back of his neck. “Just let me buy you lunch. It’s the least I can do. Please?” He dropped his arm and turned his full attention to her. He was still, all fidgeting silenced as he waited for her answer.

“Where are we going?” Azira sighed with a small smile.

Crowley’s face brightened as he beamed at her, and it sent Azira’s heart fluttering. “I’ve got just the spot!”


	5. Part 4

“Shouldn’t you be, well, more careful? What if those two men are still here, waiting for you? They could be hiding anywhere!” Azira’s eyes darted to every alley and doorway looking for any sign of the two men who had been chasing Crowley.

“Nah, they’re long gone. If they were hanging around, they got bored and left ages ago.” Crowley sauntered casually down the sidewalk, enjoying the warmth of the sun on this lovely spring day.

“Who are they?” Azira asked quietly, shooting a side glance at Crowley, who frowned so slightly that Azira only noticed the shift in expression because she was observing him when it happened.

“Former colleagues. Mean, but harmless.” He didn’t elaborate past that, but it was enough for now, a promise of the truth to come. The rest she could wait for.

They walked the rest of the way in silence. Azira’s mind wandered, imagining countless reasons why Crowley had run from the two men. He seemed like the type to get into trouble, but nothing truly serious, just pranks and disobedience of silly and outdated rules. It seemed that serious trouble had found him, though, and she was worried. Those two men now knew who she was, where she worked and lived, and if they realized she was caught up in this, that she had lied to protect Crowley, they could come back at any time and who knows what they’d do. He had promised to protect her, though, hadn’t he? Protect her from what, exactly?

“We’re here.” Crowley had stopped in front of a lovely little restaurant, a shadow of concern passing over his face and his glance darted around to the other shops. “You do like sushi, don’t you? I should’ve asked before. We could go across the street if you want. Pizza’s good there.”

“Sushi is nice,” she tugged at his arm lightly, pulling his attention back to her, and smiled at him. “I’ve been wanting to come here for ages. I’ve heard it’s divine!”

“I don’t know about divine, but it’s good.” His casual smile returned as he pulled the door open and gestured her inside.

It was very cosy - dark wooden tables and chairs gleamed in the low lighting, the walls and floor were made of slats of beautiful rustic wood and there were green plants thriving in every available space. Soft music and the dull roar of conversations from diners filled the air. Azira’s attention was captured by a large tank filled with colorful fish darting back and forth, pausing every so often to look around or explore the tank decor. 

“Oooh, hello!” She cooed as they swam before her. “Aren’t you lovely!”

“Come on, angel.” Crowley tapped her on the shoulder and inclined his head towards the corner where there was a table tucked away. “Best place for private conversations.”

“Of course,” Azira nodded and followed him. He pulled out her chair for her and then seated himself across from her.

“So, you talk to fish?” Crowley sprawled in his chair, one long arm draped over the back.

“What? Oh, that.” Azira deflated.

“No, I didn’t, I mean. Shit. Sorry,” Crowley stammered, not knowing what he said wrong, but knowing he definitely did say something wrong.

“No, it’s quite alright my dear. It’s just that when I was young I was taught to love all creatures great and small. It’s quite silly and leads me to do all manner of foolish things like that!” Azira explained, hands wringing in her lap.

“I’d expect nothing else from an angel,” Crowley joked, teasing to find that lovely angelic smile again, but Azira felt his honesty.

“I’m really not an angel.” Her eyes refused to look up.

“Then what are you?” Crowley leaned forward and set his chin into his hand, studying Azira.

“Nothing special. Just a girl with a weird upbringing who runs a library, helps complete strangers, and talks to fish.” She laughed dryly.

“Seems pretty special to me,” Crowley’s hand fluttered, as if it wanted to reach out to Azira, to make her feel special, but it was stilled by the presence of the server.

She was a cute girl with far too much energy, her ponytail bouncing with every movement.

“Good afternoon! My name is Mae and I’ll be your server. Are you ready to order?” She held her notepad and pen at the ready.

Azira glanced down at the menu, completely ignored up to this moment, and she pulled in a quick breath. It would take her a while to sort through all of the options and decide what she would order, and she didn’t want to waste Crowley’s time.

“Would you mind if I ordered for us?” Crowley asked. “I know the chef.”

“Oh, yes. That would be fine!” She breathed a quick sigh of relief and handed the menu to the smiling server while Crowley listed off the order.

“Absolutely! I’ll tell him you’re in.” Mae smiled and bounced off to place their order with the kitchen.

“Hope you don’t mind too much, you looked a little lost in the menu. Not that you needed my help, I just wanted to. I ordered a bunch of options so you should like something, but I probably should have asked, oh shit! Do you have any food allergies?” Crowley had worked himself into a near panic and, without thinking, Azira reached across the table to place her hand over his. Her eyes slid up to meet his, both pairs wide, surprised over the sudden touch.

“No, no food allergies,” she reassured him with a genuine smile. “And I very much appreciate you ordering. It would have taken me ages to read the menu. So many words,” she chuckled. The menu had been absolutely packed with wordy descriptions of every available option, all in letters that were far too small to read easily in the dim light.

“I told him there were too many words. Less words, more pictures. Didn’t listen.” Crowley’s panic was dissipating, leaving the focus on their hands pressed together on the table. Had she made him uncomfortable? She barely knew him and here she was touching him in public!

“I agree,” Azira pulled her hand back and placed it into her lap. 

“Oh good. Drinks.” Crowley sat up a bit as Mae returned with a tray of drinks and began to set them on the table.

“If you need more, just let me know! Your food will be out shortly!” She smiled again and bounced over to the next table to take their order.

“What’s all this?” Azira stared at the spread of drinks. Two glasses of water, a steaming mug of coffee, a bottle of wine, and a bottle of sake, each with a pair of glasses.

“Alcohol. Quite extraordinary amounts of alcohol!” Crowley said triumphantly, bouncing his fork off of the nearest glass, creating a high pitched _ding_. He beamed, grabbing the sake and pouring. 

Azira giggled quietly and wondered what exactly she had gotten herself into, then Crowley froze.

“Shit. Again. Do you even drink? I’ll order you something else if you-“

“Yes, I drink. And I’d very much like to if you wouldn’t mind.” Azira raised an eyebrow with a pointed look at the bottle in Crowley’s hand. “It has been quite a day and I expect it will continue to be.”

Crowley relaxed, chuckling, and poured. He pushed a glass across the table to her and took his, holding it out for a toast.

“To new friends?” he asked.

“To new friends," she raised her glass and the two came together with a soft _clink_.


	6. Part 5

“Dig in,” Crowley gestured to the veritable feast laid before them. Platters of sushi and sashimi, plates of tempura and rice, and bowls of soup. The small table was overcrowded and the server had pulled over an additional small table, pushed against theirs, to catch the overflow of plates and bowls that didn’t fit on the table. It was a beautiful array of delicacies and it was nearly overwhelming to the senses. Azira’s eyes took in every detail, her nose catalogued every scent, and her mouth watered, anticipating the flavors of each bite.

“Try this first,” Crowley pushed a plate toward her and poured wine into the glasses, setting one down in front of each of them. “It’s my favorite. Not even on the menu. I think you’ll enjoy it,” he smiled at her, then took a healthy sip of wine. He swirled the dark liquid in his glass, studying the way it slid and sloshed around, catching the light in dark prisms. “I guess it’s time, then.”

Azira sat back in her seat, taking a sip of wine as well, and taking in the sight before her. Crowley seemed all edges and knots, wound up and exhausted. 

“Only if you’re ready. And only as much as you want to share.” She longed to reach over the table to take Crowley’s hand, reassure him, though she wasn’t sure what about.

Crowley sighed and removed his glasses, slowly folding them and placing them on the table. He rubbed at his eyes for a moment, then turned his full attention to Azira.

“I was the kind of kid that people like to call ‘troubled’,” he used air quotes on the final word. “All I did was ask questions, but that was enough. It was just me and mom. I hated school, got into lots of fights. I tried to keep to myself, but some people just attract the wrong kind of attention. I started fighting back, but that only made it worse, so I got kicked out of school. Didn’t transfer, just left. Mom said if I wasn’t going to go to school, I needed to get a job, to help support us, but I didn't. I didn’t see the point, didn’t do well with authority, always questioning. Mom worked a lot, but we still couldn’t make ends meet. We had a big fight and she said if I wasn’t going to school and I wasn’t working, I had to leave. She couldn’t afford to keep feeding me and paying for new clothes and whatever else I needed. She begged me to reenroll in school or get a job at the market down the street, but I was stubborn and stupid, so I left. I slept on the street for a while, then Hastur and Ligur found me - the two from this morning. They told me they’d take care of me, help me find a job that I’d like, give me a place to sleep, food to eat, and offer me protection. I couldn’t turn it down, so I said yes. They taught me to fight properly, how to pick the fights I could win and how to hide when I couldn’t. I learned how to shoplift and talk my way out of paying for things, how to charm the right people to remember me and how to be forgotten by others. I worked odd jobs for Be-” he cut himself off with a sharp breath, “the boss. I did well at first, but the jobs got… well, I didn’t really know what I was signing on for at the start and I didn’t want to be part of it anymore. I was good at the little things, creative when it came to planning, but they wanted me to do things that, well I wasn’t personally up for them. I started making excuses, forgetting to do certain things, making mistakes, anything I could think of that might get me kicked out, but nothing worked. About a week ago I left an envelope with as much money as I could scrounge up and ran. I thought it would be enough to convince them to let me out, but I was wrong. I was holed up in a hotel, which is where they found me. They cornered me, tried to haul me back to headquarters to stand trial for desertion, I made a break for it and ran. That’s when I ended up in your library. I never meant to put you in any harm and if they threaten you in any way, I’ll turn myself in.”

“I won’t let you do that.” Azira’s voice surprised both of them, having been so silent during Crowley’s explanation.

“If they threaten you in any way, I _ will _ turn myself in,” Crowley repeated determinedly. “I won’t risk your wellbeing for my stupid decisions. You deserve better,” he added softly.

“I have been taking care of myself for quite some time now, and can continue to do so.” Azira set her shoulders and tried to look intimidating, earning just the hint of a smirk from Crowley.

“I have no doubt about that, but you don’t know these guys. They won’t take it easy on you because you’re a woman. They're brutal.”

The words sent a chill down Azira’s spine.

“But you don’t have to worry. I’ll take care of it.” Crowley’s golden eyes were hard.

“And what about your mom?” Azira asked softly, afraid that she might be pushing him away by prying.

“Haven’t talked to her since I left,” he shrugged. “Well, I tried once, but it went about as well as I expected.”

“I’m so sorry, Anthony.” Azira’s heart ached to reach out to him, to comfort him.

His eyes widened for a moment, then he slipped back into his casual facade. “You can call me Crowley, remember? Everyone does.”  
  
“Seeing as we’re friends, I would prefer to call you Anthony. That is, if you don’t mind.” Azira’s cheeks started to burn, wishing she could take back her words. Using his first name was somehow far more intimate that she’d anticipated, especially with the knowledge that no one else called him by it.

“I don’t mind, angel.” His features became soft, setting his chin in his hand and watching Azira from across the table. “Now, let’s finish lunch and get you back to your library, shall we?”

“We shall,” Azira smiled and the two of them helped themselves to too much food, chatting pleasantly while they did so. 

Crowley smiled and smirked whenever Azira tried a new food. She knew she had a tendency to be rather enthusiastic when it came to food, which didn’t matter much because she usually ate alone, humming and "ooh"ing and "ah"ing when she found things that were especially delicious. Crowley didn’t seem to mind, he actually seemed to enjoy it. He seemed happy that she was so happy. It made her head spin.

Or maybe that was the alcohol.

When the sake and wine were gone, as well as most of the food, Azira found herself lounged in her chair, slumped back uncharacteristically, her head lolled to one side, watching as Crowley replaced the dark glasses on his face. The table was covered in empty dishes, stacked bowls, and the leftovers were swiftly being deposited into takeout containers to be enjoyed later.

Crowley held out his credit card when the last of the containers was sealed. It was taken by Mae with a smile and a cheerful “I’ll be right back!”

“Thank you,” Azira said with a dreamy smile. Everything felt too much. Too much alcohol, too much food, too much attention, too much Crowley. It felt strange and wonderful.

“I promised you lunch, angel. It’s the least I could do.” Crowley smiled softly, seemingly affected only slightly less than Azira.

“Not just for the food. For trusting me. I hope you know that I appreciate your confidence and I will keep it here,” she placed her hand over her heart. “And,” she pushed herself up to her normal posture, “I will help you however I can.”

“I can’t ask you to do that, angel.” Crowley scrawled his signature on the receipt and stood, offering a hand to Azira.

“You didn’t ask, _ Anthony _.” Azira may not be at full power, but she was still enjoying these name games of theirs. She placed her hand in his and let him help her up. “It’s my decision and I expect you to honor it by letting me know how I can be of assistance.” She gazed as fiercely as she could into the eyes shielded by dark lenses and didn’t realize she was leaning toward him until she felt a hand on her waist to steady her.

“Come on, angel,” he stepped to the side, but kept his arm around her waist to guide her to the door. “I’ll walk you back.” He let his arm drop as he opened the door.


	7. Part 6

Crowley stayed in the library for the rest of the day, shuffling around the stacks or sitting in the reading corner, eyes constantly watching the windows and hovering by the door. His posture was stiff and anxious and he was jumpy every time he heard the bell above the door ring. When he was settled in the reading corner, he tried to look relaxed, but he was tense, ready to spring up at any moment, to fight, to protect Azira should the wrong people wander in.

Azira shelved the rest of the books, which took her a bit longer than usual thanks to the big lunch, alcohol, and distraction of Crowley’s presence, but the task was completed. A few teens stopped into the library after school, picking up books the library at school didn’t have. Azira happily chatted with each of them about their classes, their interests, and what books they were looking for. She had custom-tailored recommendations for each of them, piling their arms or backpacks with books and kindly shooing them off to start reading. 

Crowley watched her as she worked. She was sweet, all angelic curves and bright smiles. She looked like she was glowing when she got particularly excited, wiggling and bouncing on her toes as she discussed a particularly interesting book or her favorite production of a Shakespeare play. He wondered what she would look like in more modern clothing instead of the old fashioned spinster librarian look, but he supposed it worked for her. She was charming and Crowley hated himself for putting her in danger. She looked so gentle, he was sure she wouldn’t be able to hold her own in a fight, though he was also sure that she wasn’t quite what she seemed. Azira Fell was a mystery that Crowley wanted to solve, to dig down deep into and draw out the secrets. But he couldn’t. He was a wanted man. He didn’t have the luxury of getting to know someone. He would stick around as long as he needed to protect her, but nothing more.

“Anthony?” her voice rang clear through the shop. “It’s nearly closing time.”

“Right,” he slithered to the window, careful to stay hidden, and peered out into the street. No sign of Hastur or Ligur. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Any sign of them?” Azira had come up behind him to see for herself.

“Nah, you’re safe.” Crowley shoved his hands in his pockets and moved toward the door.

“What about you?”

Crowley froze and turned. Azira was watching him carefully, her blue eyes wide and questioning, her hands wringing in front of her in worry.

“M’fine. M’always fine. Thanks for saving my ass today.” Crowley shrugged as he placed one hand on the doorknob.

“But where will you go?” Azira took two quick steps towards him, then stopped suddenly. “You can’t go back to the hotel. Where will you sleep tonight?” Her eyes had dropped to the floor, her hands wrigining more furiously now.

“I’ll go to a bar and stay as long as they’re open, then I’ll find a diner. Lots of people there, so I won’t be easy to spot. S’good cover.” Crowley leaned against the wall. He was tired. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was. Had barely slept in a week and if he didn’t find somewhere safe, he’d become sloppy and unfocused and he’d surely be caught.

“That sounds dreadful! Absolutely not!” Azira was appalled, hand on her heart and jaw dropped. “That simply won’t do!” She marched to the door, flipped the sign to closed, turned the lock and grabbed Crowley’s hand, dragging him back through the library. “This way!”  
“What are you doing?” Crowley tried to pull away, but her grip was surprisingly tight. He took a mental note of that and let her drag him.

“Here,” she stopped at the entrance of a small room at the back of the library. It was dim and cozy, filled with a desk covered with papers and books, a chair, and a small couch with a tartan blanket laid across its back. “The backroom. No one comes in here except me. The couch may be a bit small, but it will be far more comfortable than a bar stool or diner booth. I’ll go fetch some bedding.” She turned to go, but felt Crowley’s hand grab hers.

“Angel, I can’t stay here.”

“Where else do you have go to?” Azira spun around and looked him in the eye, well almost. She reached up and removed his glasses in one swift movement, not giving Crowley any time to stop her. “Anthony, I won’t let you go out there to suffer and possibly be caught when I have a perfectly nice, warm, and safe place for you to sleep.”

Crowley was struck dumb. He couldn’t understand why she was doing this. He put her in danger, she should be furious with him, should have thrown him out hours ago, but instead she was standing before him and insisting he stay.

“Please, my dear. Please stay. Just until you find another safe place.” She added, her voice quiet and sad. She held out his glasses to him, eyes avoiding Crowley. “Sorry about that. I just, I couldn’t have a barrier between us. I needed to see you.” There was red creeping into her cheeks.

“It’s okay, angel.” He took the glasses, softly letting their fingers touch before folding them up and placing them into his pocket. “Not used to people… well, usually people prefer it when I hide them.”

“Why?” Azira’s piercing blue gaze was back on him, curiosity burning.

“Most people think they’re creepy, all yellow and, yeah…” he met her gaze and the whole world fell away.

“Oh no. They’re not yellow, they’re golden, like the sun. They’re lovely.” Azira sounded a little breathless as she spoke and Crowley felt the same way. This connection was far too much, too intense. 

Azira was leaning in again, as she had done at the restaurant, looking deeper into his eyes and Crowley wanted to reach out… 

“You’re sweet, but there’s no need to sugar coat it.” Crowley forced up an invisible barrier. Protection, he told himself. Better to be closed off. 

“I’m not. I wouldn’t lie to you.” Azira was no longer dazed, her features now a bit sharper than before. Lips pulled into a line, brows slightly furrowed, serious.

“You’re an angel, I don’t think you can,” Crowley chuckled. “Now, about that bedding?”

“Oh!” Azira exclaimed with a wiggle. “So you will stay!”

“Didn’t seem like I had much choice,” Crowley flopped down on the couch, which was far more comfortable than it looked, and it looked really comfortable.

“I'll be right back!” Azira flashed a bright smile and took off. She bounded up the stairs, rummaged in the closet and returned with a set of pale blue tartan sheets, a pillow, and two blankets, one a cream and brown tartan, the other a red and black checked pattern. “Here! If you wouldn’t mind relocating for a moment, I’ll get this all set for you!”

“I can do it,” Crowley protested.

“I know you can, dear, but I’d like to. You’re a guest and I would like you to feel as such.” 

Crowley made a face and immediately wished he hadn’t. A shadow passed over her face only for a moment, but it was enough to make Crowley’s stomach drop. Azira set the bundle of bedding on the chair and sat next to Crowley on the couch. 

“You must not be used to others doing things for you.” It wasn't asked, but still landed somewhere between a statement and a question. Crowley didn’t answer. “I’m so sorry, my dear. I hope I haven’t made you uncomfortable. I only want to help.” Her hand twitched, moving closer to Crowley’s for a fleeting moment before moving into her lap. He wished she hadn’t stopped. He ached for it, craved it. Not just physical touch, which he was most definitely starved of, but her soft touch in particular. She was bright and soft where he was dark and sharp, kind and cozy where he was aloof and unwelcoming.

“Will you let me?” Azira looked up at him gently. “Please let me help you. I -“ she paused, considering for a moment, then moved her hand over his. “I promise you it’s because I want to. You are no burden here, you are a welcome friend.”

“No burden?” Crowley laughed. “I practically broke in here this morning, assaulted you, and made you lie for me!”

“You did no such thing!” Azira’s expression was stern, but not mean. It fit right into the librarian look. “I’m not so easily shaken as all that. I made a choice and I stand by it.”

Crowley’s shield of humor melted away, leaving him no choice but to be vulnerable. “Okay, okay. You’re right. I’m not used to people helping me. I’m used to being on my own, earning my keep.” Crowley’s face was suddenly open and honest, golden eyes shining. “Earn my keep! Alright, I’ll let you help me if you let me help you.” 

“That’s not exactly what I meant.” Azira crossed her arms over her chest.

“Just hear me out, will you?” Crowley was tensed, but differently than before. This was excitement, anticipation, not dread.

“What are you suggesting?” Azira’s hand dropped to her lap.

“An arrangement. You let me stay here and in exchange I give you protection.” Crowley shifted to sit forward, elbows on his knees, his voice fast and excited.

“Protection?”

“From Hastur and Ligur and the boss. I told you I wouldn’t let them hurt you, and I won’t. I’ll stay here and keep watch, cause trouble elsewhere if they come back.”

“You really don’t have to,” Azira’s protest wasn’t weak, but it wasn’t solid either.

“Please, angel.” He swept her hand up in both of his. “I can never repay you for what you did, but I would like to try.”

Azira nodded placing her free hand over his, squeezing, then standing, pulling her hand from between his.

“Now, why don’t we fix something for dinner and discuss this arrangement?”


	8. Part 7

For the next few days Crowley slept on the couch in the back room, often late into the morning, waking to find Azira carrying boxes of books between shelves or reading at the desk. He didn’t sleep soundly, tossing and turning, sometimes shouting in his sleep. Azira would sometimes stand in the doorway until the fit passed, hoping her presence helped reassure him of his safety.

One morning Azira opened the library, checked in on Crowley, and closed the door to the back room so she wouldn’t wake him. She had a lot to do that day and couldn’t wait for Crowley to be up and about to start her day. She hauled boxes of new books over to the desk, unpacked them, and set about cataloguing and tagging them.

She heard the bell over the door ring and called a friendly “I’ll be with you in just a moment!”

“Ms. Fell, we need to talk.”

Azira’s blood ran cold. “Of course, Gabriel. Is something wrong?” She exited the desk and moved to meet him where he stood, in the center of the room.

“I’ve heard some disturbing rumors, which I’m sure you can clear up for me.” Gabriel only looked at Azira as much as he needed to be be considered polite by society. 

“Rumors?” Azira squeaked.

“Yes,” Gabriel began to wander while Azira was frozen to the spot, only moving to rotate as Gabriel circled her. “As you know, I have many investment properties around the city and I have people everywhere reporting to me of any and all strange occurrences. Is there a strange occurrence that I should know, Ms. Fell?”

Gabriel pauses in his circling and shoots Azira a look. She doesn’t answer, just looks at him, waiting for him to continue.

“I heard,” the circling continued, “that there was some mischief that happened here the other morning. Hooligans running wild in the street, causing a scene, disturbing the poor innocent folks on their way to work. One even ran into a business and wasn’t seen leaving. Do you know anything about that?”

Azira swallowed hard, breathing to calm her racing heart. “Not much, I’m afraid. I did hear a commotion and then two men came in and asked me some questions, but that’s all.” Azira prayed that Crowley wouldn’t come bursting through the door, that he would sleep through this. How had she not planned for Gabriel?

“What men?” Gabriel turned on her, crossing to stand directly in front of her, his bright eyes purple in the dim lighting of the library.

“I don’t know, they didn’t leave me their names. Rather… unkempt.” Azira pulled out any details that didn’t give her away, making the story more believable she hoped.

“What did they want?” Gabriel’s gaze was too strong, Azira had to look away.

“They were looking for someone. Someone tall I think they said,” Azira gazed thoughtfully at the shelves behind Gabriel, trying to look as if she were working to remember more.

“What else?” Gabriel stepped closer, towering over Azira, broad and strong and extremely intimidating.

“That’s all. I assured them that they were the first patrons of the day and they left. I assume they questioned the rest of the street as well?” Azira glanced out the door, wishing Gabriel would let himself out soon. She couldn’t handle much more of this interrogation.

“I’ll be asking the other business owners as well, but I knew I could rely on you to tell the truth. Who knows, someone might be in league with the hooligans and be harboring a fugitive. I had hoped you’d be able to tell me more,” he looked at her questioningly.

“I wish I could, but I’ve told you all I know. Please keep me informed. I want to be sure I’m able to keep our patrons safe.” Azira smiled weakly.

“Right. Well, I’ll be on my way. We’ll be in touch.” He crossed to the door and was halfway out when he turned back. “Call me if you see anything suspicious.” He didn’t even wait for a reply before leaving and letting the door slam behind him.

Azira released her breath in a _ whoosh _ and crossed her arms around her waist, steadying herself.

“Angel, what’s wrong?” Crowley stood in the doorway of the back room, posture rigid, ready to fight or run, eyes sweeping the room for intruders.

“Oh, nothing, Anthony. Just Gabriel. He visits from time to time. Quite an unpleasant fellow, but he’s the reason I have the library, so it’s a necessary evil, unfortunately.” Azira put on her most reassuring smile and crossed back to the desk.

“What did he want?” Crowley leaned against the desk, still searching the room for anything off.

“He was asking about you, actually.” Crowley jumped and spun to face Azira. “Not you, specifically, just wanted to know what I knew about the commotion the other day.”

“What did you say?” Crowley’s eyes were wide with panic. He hadn’t planned for this. He didn’t know he could cause Azira trouble like this. He was prepared for his fight, but hadn’t foreseen a battle starting on another field.

“You really don’t need to worry, my dear. I told him the truth! All except for you. I simply said I heard a commotion and two men came in asking questions. When I couldn’t help them, they left.”

“He bought it?” Crowley croaked.

“For now. He’s always suspicious. We’ll have to be more careful.” Azira tapped the eraser of a pencil against her lip, deep in thought.

The bell jingled.

They both froze. Had Gabriel come back, dissatisfied with Azira’s responses? Had someone told him that Crowley had indeed run into the library?

They turned and saw a young woman standing in the doorway. She had long dark hair, large glasses, and heavy woolen skirts in deep blues and greens.

“Good morning! I was hoping you’d have somewhere to hang this poster?” She was kind and professional, holding up a flyer. 

“Of course!” Azira beamed! 

“Thank you! I’m Anathema Device, by the way. I own Device’s Divinations across the street.” She crossed to meet Azira and they shook hands.

“So nice to meet you! I’m Azira Fell! What is your poster for?” Azira took the flyer and glanced at it.

“I’m looking for someone to help tend my plants. I use them for teas, soaps, lotions, and spells.” Anathema glanced around the shop, her eyes stopping on Crowley, who simply nodded at her, dark glasses hiding his eyes.

“Spells?” Azira wiggled excitedly.

“Yes, but mostly soaps and tea. Do you know of anyone who’s looking for some work?”

Azira slowly turned to look at Crowley. “I think I might.”

“No. No no no. Absolutely not! I already have a job, remember?” Crowley straightened up and shoved his hands in his pockets.

“It’s just across the street! And the flyer says it’s part time, so it would only be a few hours a day! I think it’s rather perfect!” Azira crossed to Crowley and handed him the poster.

“With a chance to move into full-time. It’s easy work, just a bit of light gardening, helping me fill orders when it’s busy.” Anathema joined them, holding out her hand to Crowley. “You can start today if you’d like.”

“Anthony, dear. Please give it a try. You might like it!” 

Crowley grumbled, but held out his hand and shook Anathema’s.

“Great! Let’s get you started! It’s just me and Newt, he’s our delivery guy. I hired him as an accountant, but he blew up my computer, so now he drives our local orders and runs errands. He’s sweet,” Anathema chattered calmly as she led Crowley to the door.

Crowley shot a look back at Azira and he couldn’t help but smile back at her as she laughed and gave him a small wave. 

“I’ll be back for lunch, angel,” He called over his shoulder.

“I’ll be here!” She replied.


	9. Part 8

The grandfather clock rang noon and Azira set aside her work, eager to see Crowley and hear how work was going. She neatened the piles of books on the desk, fluffed the pillows in the reading corner, dusted a few shelves, and began to worry when it was half past and there was still no sign of the redhead.

She paced by the door for a few minutes wondering if he was alright. He had promised to be back for lunch, but perhaps he had simply lost track of the time, which would be wonderful! Or he could have been spotted by Hastur and Ligur and had been whisked away to their secret headquarters to face the consequences of his desertion. If Hastur and Ligur were involved, was Anathema okay?   
  
She decided it was far better to do something instead of just worrying about it, so she set her shoulders and crossed the street.

Anathema’s shop was quite sweet, a dark gray with clean white script spelling “Device’s Divinations” in large letters sitting just above a smaller script that said “organic teas, soaps, tonics, and more”. There were flower boxes in the windows with small, colorful, flowers and a bright sign sat in the window to let people know that she also offered tarot and palm readings by appointment. Nothing here looked amiss, so Azira pushed open the large door and stepped into the space. 

It was very tidy and organized, tall shelves lined the walls, each item meticulously placed and catalogued with small cards describing the uses and effects. The center of the room was open except for a small round table surrounded by four wooden chairs, and a counter at the back with a computer. Anathema stood, completely unharmed, behind the computer, typing furiously, unaware of Azira’s presence.

Azira shifted and cleared her throat, but still Anathema didn’t look up.

“Pardon me, I’m just looking for Anthony.”

“Anthony? Oh, Crowley. In the back. Sorry, doing the numbers.” Anathema pointed to a doorway just behind her to her left and kept her eyes on the computer screen.

“So sorry! I’ll just-” Azira cut herself off and moved toward the door, still anxious despite seeing Anathema in perfect health.

She stepped into the room behind the door and gasped. It was a large room filled with plants. Heat lamps hung everywhere and watering cans stood at the ready every few feet, but nothing could compare to the scent. The herbs and flowers, each with their unique aromas, lingered with each other, swirling and weaving into an incredible blanket of scent that both calmed and excited. Lavender, mint, rosemary, she couldn’t begin to give names to all of them. 

Tucked into the back corner, muttering to himself while spraying some young plants with a green plastic plant mister was Crowley, hunched over, red hair tied back in a messy bun.

“Anthony,” Azira called.

“Angel! What’re you… did I miss lunch?” He stood and spun on his heel, facing her with a smile that faded into an apology.

“No, a bit late, but there’s still plenty of time.” Azira crossed to him, admiring his work, running her fingers lightly over the silk petals of some lovely lilies. 

“Sorry. Lost track of time I guess.”

“Oh. There isn’t a clock in here.” Azira swept the room and didn’t find one. “We should pick one up.” 

“Sure. You okay? You seem a bit off.” Crowley stuck his thumbs into his pockets.

“Absolutely tickety-boo!” Azira said, her voice awkwardly high.

“Tickety-boo?” Crowley formed the word like it didn’t fit right in his mouth.

“I was worried.”

Crowley stayed silent, inviting her to continue.

“You didn’t come back to the library and I thought maybe Hastur and Ligur had found you, that they’d taken you, or beat you, or…”

“Hey, hey. I’m okay.” Crowley gently placed his palms on Azira’s arms, his thumbs rubbing small circles. “Everything’s fine. I’m sorry I worried you.”

“Not to worry, I find I worry about almost everything. Nervous mind, me. How do you like it here?” Azira flashed her best distracted smile, hoping Crowley would take the bait and change the subject.

“S’good. Really good, actually. Anathema is cool, too, and she just leaves me to deal with these,” he spread his arms wide, gesturing to the room. “They're going to be a lot of work, totally undisciplined, but I can do it.” Azira could see soil caked around his fingernails as he pointed and she giggled.

“What?” Crowley’s head tilted to one side.

“You should wash up before we go to lunch,” Azira took one of his hands in hers and held it out for him to see. His skin was rough and warm against hers. “Any recommendations?”

“What are you in the mood for?” Crowley asked, staring at their hands.

“Anything,” Azira’s eyes moved from his hand to his face, following the line of his jaw, his nose, his golden eyes, which were bare in the privacy of the plant room.

“Anything?” he whispered, eyes meeting hers.

Yes.

No!

No, she mustn't. She dropped his hand and took a hasty half-step backwards, knocking against a counter and sending an empty watering can toppling to the floor. His hand swung limply to his side, then shot out to catch her in case she fell, which she didn’t. She was white knuckling the counter and Crowley’s heart pounded when he saw the wretchedly hopeful uncertainty in her eyes that matched his own.

“Sorry! Sorry!” she stooped to pick it up and placed it carefully back in its place. “Something sweet?” she frowned at herself. “I mean, a bakery? I’ve been craving cake all morning.” Her face was a pleasant shade of pink and Crowley fought the giggle rising in his chest. He liked it when she was flustered.

“Yeah, sounds good. I’ll just wash up and meet you out front.”

He crossed the room and opened the door for her. She followed, giving him a quick nod and an embarrassed smile before slipping back into the shop. Crowley shut the door and leaned against it.

“Get ahold of yourself. You’re no good. You can’t honestly think she could be happy with you. She’s just being nice. You don’t deserve her.” He crossed to the sink and scrubbed at his hands until they were pink and raw, monologueing to himself in the mirror. “She’s out of your league. Ha! She’s playing a totally different game. You’re lucky if you’re even on the same planet! Just keep her safe and get out of her life. That’s the plan. Good? Good. Okay. Lunch.”

Out in the shop Azira tugged at her shirt collar. She couldn’t seem to get enough air in her lungs. 

“You okay?” Azira jumped, forgetting she wasn’t alone. Anathema was watching her with a smirk, leaning against the counter casually.

“Oh yes. It’s quite warm in there.” Azira straightened her bow tie and fussed with her waistcoat.

“Yeah, good for the plants. Not the only hot thing about the room, though, right?” Anathemas cool facade didn’t break, but Azira blushed a deep crimson.

“I- what- you- I don’t know what you mean!” She stammered, her hand flying to her chest, trying to stop her heart from beating out of her chest.

“Oh, come on. He’s _ gorgeous _ and that’s just a fact. Definitely not my type, but I can certainly appreciate that he's a good looking guy. And don’t pretend you haven’t noticed.” Anathema raised an eyebrow at Azira, who sputtered and wrung her hands vigorously.

“It’s okay. You can think he’s attractive!” Anathema laughed and winked at Azira when she heard the door to the back room swing open. “Have a nice lunch you two!”

Crowley smiled at Anathema and tossed a “Coming angel?” to Azira as he passed.

“Of course!” She squeaked out, ignoring Anathema’s over-exaggerated mouthing of the word angel, and hurried to the door.


	10. Part 9

Crowley led Azira down a few blocks to a nice cafe and bakery. It was very modern, all white and sleek lines accented with very polished wood. It wasn’t Azira’s usual style, but it seemed to suit Crowley, so she didn’t mind. He fit in so well with this crowd, all fashionable and current, and Azira felt terribly out of place. Her hands fidgeted, straightening her bow tie, pulling at her vest and pressing the pleats back into her skirt.

“Hey,” Crowley said softly. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing!” Azira laughed nervously at which Crowley raised an eyebrow so high it was visible over his glasses. “I just feel like I stand out here.”

“Good, you should.” Crowley laughed and smiled at her.

“I should? Why should I? I don’t fit in with this… look,” she crossed her arms over herself protectively.

“Oh. Because of the tartan librarian look? That’s what you’re worried about?” Crowley’s laugh was loud and full. “Angel, you look great! No need to feel self conscious!”

This did not help her feel less self conscious. Instead her head swam. Crowley liked her look. He liked how she looked, and how she looked at this moment was dazed. 

“Hey, hey, breathe!” Crowley was supporting Azira by her elbows.

“What?” She asked, looking around to see everyone’s eyes on her. “What happened?”

“I think you stopped breathing for a moment, almost passed out. Sit,” he guided her to the nearest chair and set her into it.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” She smiled and nodded politely at the onlookers so they would take their attention from her and go back to their coffee and resume their work or continue their conversations.

“Maybe it’s low blood sugar. I’ll get us some food, you just sit here.” Crowley took two steps, then turned back. “Okay if I order for you?”

Azira nodded with a shy smile. She didn’t want him to know that she loved when he did. She loved everything he did for her and that was dangerous.

“I won’t forget the cake,” Crowley added with an over exaggerated wink visible even from behind the glasses, and walked to the counter to place their order.

Azira glanced around the room, planning to take in the art placed around the room, but found herself distracted. The room was packed with people eating with friends, working on laptops, even a few reading books, but nearly half of them had lost interest in anything that wasn’t the redhead at the counter. They ogled, giggled, and smiled in a way that made Azira’s blood boil. 

“That’s quite rude, staring like that,” she muttered to herself. “Have they no manners?”

She glanced over at Crowley and realized that, despite her aptitude for self-control, she couldn’t stop herself from staring either. He wore trousers so slim that they hugged every curve and line of his legs and rear and it was certainly not a bad view. His jacket was well tailored and showed off his shoulders and fit physique. The long lines of his jaw and cheekbones seemed more prominent in this light, and his hair was perfectly disheveled.

He paid and walked, no sauntered, down to wait at the pickup counter, his hips swaying in a way that earned him a gasp and a few hummed “mmhmm”s from the onlookers. Azira glared at no one in particular, then noticed that Crowley was looking in her direction. He cocked his head to one side in a question and she smiled at him to let him know everything was just fine. She hoped the oglers noticed. She wanted them to know that he was with her. Well, not _ with _ her, but they were having lunch together. She knew that even if someone made a move on him, he wouldn’t leave her. Would he?

No, no. He might take their number for later, but he wouldn’t desert her. 

Which begs the question, why? 

“Here you go, angel!” Crowley placed the plates and cups down on the table, clearly skilled at balancing. Had he ever been a waiter?

“Why?” Azira blurted. Hadn't she been about to ask if he had ever waited tables before?

“What?” Crowley sat and looked at the food before him. “You don’t like it?”

“Oh, no, I’m sorry. It looks scrumptious!” She glanced over the food and her stomach growled. “I, well, I was just thinking and I don’t quite think that going out to lunch was included in the arrangement.”

“Oh, that? No one said it wasn’t! Besides, part of protecting you includes making sure you don’t starve to death, right?” Crowley leaned back, throwing one elbow over the back of the chair, his legs spread wide. Azira heard giggles from the table of three very fit women behind her.

“No chance of that, I assure you,” she said crossing her arms in front of her stomach and glaring at the three slices of cake sitting beside a sandwich, a bowl of soup, and a very large muffin.

“Why do you say that?” Crowley stiffened.

“Say what?” Azira asked.

“That you won’t starve to death. Did someone say something to you?” One of Crowley’s hands clenched into a fist.

“Oh, I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. No need to worry, I just have been rather lax on my diet. Never have been good at saying no to food.” Azira shrugged casually, but Crowley leaned in, his hand hitting the table with a thud.

“Angel, don’t you dare. I mean, you can diet if you want to, but don’t do it for anyone but yourself. You are perfect just the way you are and I won’t have you feeling anything less than that. If you want cake, have a slice of cake or two or eight! Just do what makes you happy, okay?" Crowley was leaning forward so Azira could see his eyes over his glasses and they were flashing with anger and a gentle fierceness that shocked her. 

“Okay,” Azira breathed.

“That was… strong, sorry. I just can’t stand you thinking you’re not… well, you’re the kindest person I’ve ever known. And you’re smart and you care so damn much about everyone, you should give yourself some of that care.” Crowley settled back into his chair, hiding behind his glasses, but leaving his hand on the table between them. It was strangely comforting.

“Th- thank you.” Azira smiled shyly at him as he gestured to the food. 

“Please eat,” he prodded gently.

She removed the muffin from its plate, setting it on her napkin, placed half the sandwich on the now vacant plate and pushed the other half towards Crowley. 

“Only if you do, too.”

He took his sandwich and took a bite, watching as Azira did the same.

“Oh! Delicious!” Azira wiggled happily as the flavors of eggplant, caramelized onion, roasted red peppers, garlic, rosemary, and just the right amount of salt filled her senses.

“I’m glad you like it.” 

“I’m glad you burst into the library.” Azira was feeling brave and didn’t give herself any time to think before she spoke.

“Oh?” Crowley nearly choked on his coffee.

“Yes, I am. I rather like having you in my life. If I may be so bold as to say so.” Her confidence was fading.

“I like it when you’re bold.” He pauses for a moment, watching her. “I’m glad, too. Things could have gone a very different way that morning. I’m really glad it was you that I ran into. My life has been a lot better since I met you.” He smirked and added, “if I may be so bold.”

Azira blushed. “It’s only been a week.”

“Best week of my life, angel. Honest. Now how about some of that cake?” 

Crowley seemed to thrive on the whiplash he was giving her. One second he was being open and honest in a way that couldn’t come naturally to him, and the next he was on another topic altogether, seemingly to have forgotten the previous conversation. It was dizzying.

“Of course!” Azira pushed the plate between them and handed him a fork.

“I thought the angel cake looked especially delectable today. What do you think?” Crowley smirked as he dug his fork into the cake.

Azira wouldn’t give in to his tricks so easily now. “I think the chocolate looks simply scrummy - devil’s food? Seems fitting.” She cut off a bite with plenty of frosting and lifted it to her mouth, tasting it carefully.

“What does that mean? Are you implying that I’m the devil? I’m insulted!” Crowley dialed up the dramatics, exaggerating every movement of his long arms.

“I’m not implying anything, my dear Anthony, except that we should finish up and get back. Anathema might be needing you to yell at more plants.” Crowley’s jaw flew open to retort, then snapped closed. Azira beamed. He was speechless and she felt as if she had won.

“I don’t yell at them!” he finally spouted.

“But you do talk to them,” Azira phrased it as a statement, but there was a bit of a question to it.

“I read it’s good for them. They like it. Helps ‘em grow better.” Crowley was muttering and stabbing the cake.

“No need to be embarrassed. I’ve read that, too.” Azira felt very smug indeed.

“Shut _uuup_,” he huffed without any heat behind it. 

“I think I will. This cake is very good!” Azira giggled helped herself to another bite. “We should come here again soon.”

“I thought you didn’t fit in here,” Crowley teased.

“Perhaps I’m just what this place needs.”

Crowley’s jaw dropped and snapped closed again. Azira could see the wheels turning in his head, formulating a response.

“Yeah, maybe you are.”


	11. Part 10

The two walked back to Anathema’s shop happily teasing each other the whole way. She reads too much, he doesn’t read enough, she doesn’t go out enough, he gets into trouble every time he goes out, she walks too slow, his legs are too long to keep up with. They laughed and walked and were disappointed when they’d reached the shop.

“After you,” Crowley said in his attempt at a royal accent as he opened the door and bowed slightly.

“Oh, why thank you ever so!” Azira said in her own rendition of a royal accent, gliding through the door and holding up her skirt as if it were floor length.

Their laughter filled the shop.

“Have fun?” Anathema asked, knowing smile on her face.

“Yeah, we did. But the party’s over now, gotta see what the boss has cooked up for me to do.” Crowley draped himself dramatically over the nearest chair.

“Good lord,” Azira laughed.

“Yeah, yeah, list is in the nursery.” Anathema waved him off. “Is he always like this?” She asked Azira.

“I’m afraid I don’t know the answer to that, but it seems increasingly likely.” She giggled as she earned a “hey!” from Crowley.

“Best get back to work. I’ll see you tonight.” Azira turned to leave.

“Wait! Do you have a couple of minutes? I'd like your opinion on a couple new blends I’ve been working on.” Anathema swept out from behind the counter and moved to the table, pulling out a chair for her.

“Just a few minutes. I really should get back to the library,” Azira glanced across the street to see if any patrons were waiting for her return.

“Ten minutes, tops, I promise. Now you, get back to work.” Anathema kicked Crowley’s foot and he grumbled as he stood.

“See you later angel. Order in for dinner?”

“I thought I’d cook tonight, if that’s alright.”

“You cook? ‘Course you do! I’d be surprised if you couldn’t! Is there anything you can’t do?” He was muttering to himself by the end, disappearing into the plant room, the door swinging shut behind him.

“So?” Anathema slid into the chair opposite where Azira still stood.

“So?” Azira repeated.

“Oh, come on. Nothing?” Anathema exclaimed.

“Am I missing something?” Azira’s brows were furrowed in confusion.

“It’s so obvious!” Anathema threw her hands up in frustration.

“I’m afraid I don’t follow.”

“You’re in love!”

“WHAT?” Azira shouted.

“Well, aren’t you?” Anathema leaned across the table, desperate for answers Azira wasn’t sure she could give. “Shit, I’m sorry. Here, sit!”

Azira was swaying where she stood, very pale. Anathema crossed to her, wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pushed her down into the chair.

“I’m sorry, I just thought. I’m not usually wrong about these things.” Anathema poured a cup of tea from the tea set on the table. “Had this ready for when you came back. It’s a new calming blend. Felt like the right choice.”

“Thank you.” Azira took the warm cup and took a sip.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Anathema’s voice was so gentle that Azira felt compelled to trust her.

“It’s difficult to discuss. I, well, I don’t find myself attracted to many people. It’s quite rare for me. I can appreciate beauty, of course, but this is different.” Azira’s hands were trembling in her lap. 

“Different how?” Anathemas eyes were huge and owl-like behind her glasses.

“Stronger, deeper. I’m not really sure.” 

“Okay. What else is different?” Anathema sounded like a therapist, which would have scared Azira if it wasn't Anathema. Maybe she needed a therapist. Perhaps she was going crazy, trusting these two strangers just hours, or minutes, after meeting them.

“I’ve always been so reasonable, never impulsive, always safe and cautious, but he makes me want to be reckless. I’ve only known him a week and I know I would do anything to make sure he was safe and happy.” She paused, taking a deep, shaky breath. “And more than that, I want to be one of the things that makes him happy.”

“I think you are,” Anathema’s voice was so soft, barely more than a breath. 

“That’s kind of you to say, but-”

“I’m serious. I know I’ve only known him a few hours, but he hardly goes three seconds without talking about you.” Anathema’s face was kind, yet set so there was no room for Azira to doubt her words. “I don’t think he realizes he does it, but I heard him talking to the plants earlier and he was telling the asters that they matched your eyes perfectly.”

Azira gasped softly.

“Talk to him. You never know what might happen.” Anathema looked at Azira over her teacup, her glasses fogging slightly, but her look was piercing.

“I can’t.” Azira looked down, the weight of Anathema’s gaze was too strong. 

“Why not?”

“Because he’ll leave. He’s going to leave. He’s only staying around until he knows I’m safe, then he’s leaving. He has to.”

“I’m sorry, I think I’m missing something.” Anathema set her cup down with a small _ clink _.

“Oh dear!” Azira’s head snapped up, her stomach dropping into her shoes. “I shouldn’t have said anything. Please don't fire him! He’s a good man! He just hung around the wrong people. He’s trying to turn his life around, leave it all behind him. Please, I can’t ruin this for him,” Azira pleaded.

“I’m not going to fire him, Azira. Don’t worry. He’s a good worker, that’s all I care about. But why wouldn’t you be safe?” Anathemas confusion was replaced with concern.

“I, well, might have been caught up with the people he’s trying to get away from. He hid in the library and they came looking for him. He’s afraid they’ll come back and hurt me.”

“What are you afraid of?” 

“I’m afraid that they’ll find him. I’m afraid of what they’ll do to him. I- I’m afraid of losing him.” Azira admitted, tears falling silently down her cheeks. “So silly to feel that way when I’ve only known him a week, but there’s something about him that feels, like we were supposed to meet, like it was predestined.”

“So, tell him.”

“What? You’re still on that?” Azira huffed.

“Look, you care about him and he cares about you. That much is obvious. You’re both afraid the other will get hurt, or worse, so tell him. He may not leave if you do. Or he may still leave when you’re safe, but if they do come back, I think you’ll be stronger together. Plus, if something does happen, you’ll regret not having said anything.”

Azira was stunned, then she felt the breath escape her.

“You won’t say anything to him, will you? I said those things in confidence-”

“I won’t say anything. It’s not my place. That’s for the two of you to sort out, I’m just here to support you. But if you two let this go on too long, I may not have a choice but to force your hand.” Anathema crossed her arms over her chest and Azira had no doubt that she wouldn’t hesitate to get involved if she felt the situation required it.

“You wouldn’t!” Azira gasped.

“Just be honest about how you feel. Maybe over that nice homemade dinner you’re having tonight. Promise me you’ll think about it.” 

“I’ll think about it.” Azira sighed, seeing that there was no other choice if she wanted to get back to the library at a reasonable time.

“Good,” Anathema stood and cleared the cups from the table. “Did you like the tea?”

Azira nodded.

“Great. Crowley suggested that I call it “Angel blend” because he thought you'd like it.” She winked and disappeared into a small kitchenette in the back opposite the nursery.

Azira stood slowly and headed back to the library feeling dizzy.


	12. Part 11

When Azira arrived back at the library she wandered the shop aimlessly. She didn’t shelve a single book for the next hour, just moved between shelves and the desk, heart racing and mind churning.

She nearly screamed when there was a knock at the door. After a deep breath she opened the door to find a tall man dressed in alternating stripes of tan and brown. The cap on his head and his cargo shorts were the same brown color, while his short sleeve button-up shirt and tall socks were of the same sandy tan. The shirt and the cap both sported the company logo, a tire with a large wing on a white background.

“Package for you, Miss, ah, Fell,” he said cheerily, checking the name on the package.

“Oh yes, of course. Thank you,” Azira took the package from him.

“I’ll need you to sign for it.” The man held out a clipboard and a pen. Azira took the pen and signed her name in an elegant cursive script, then handed it back to him. “Thanks, miss. Have a nice day!” He smiled at her and turned to dutifully march back to his truck.

“You as well,” Azira called after him, then closed the door and placed the box carefully on the desk, as if it were fragile or explosive. She knew what lay inside and while it had seemed innocent at the time of purchase, she was now afraid that it would seem quite inappropriate. 

The bell above the door rang and Azira turned.

“Adam, what a surprise!”

Before her stood a boy of about eleven, with wild brown hair and bright eyes. He wore a backpack that Azira guessed carried more treasures and treats than schoolwork.

“Hi Miss Fell. Did you get the new book in?” He asked excitedly. His dog, Dog, sat politely at his feet.

“Yes and it’s set aside just for you! Hello Dog, would you like a treat?” Azira swept into the desk and grabbed a book from one shelf and from another, a dog treat from a large glass jar. “Something for each of you!” Azira handed the book to Adam and tossed the treat to Dog, who yipped and devoured it happily.

“Thank you, Miss Fell! I can’t want to see what happens next! It’s always easier to wait until a series is over to start reading it, but I couldn’t help myself!” Adam stared at the cover, wide-eyed in wonder.

“I do hope it will be worth the wait,” Azira beamed at him. She loved her young patrons, so eager to read.

“What’s in the box?” Adam asked, spotting the package on the desktop.

“That? I, I’m not sure. It was delivered just before you arrived and I haven’t had a chance to open it yet.” Azira stuttered.

“New books?” Adam suggested.

“I don’t think so. Could be a new dress I ordered,” Azira was not a great liar, but tried to think of something that would make Adam lose interest, and to her luck it worked.

“Wicked.” His voice was monotone, staring once again at the book.

“Why don’t you head home so you can start reading?”

“Yeah, I’ll do that. Thanks again Miss Fell!” Adam held the book to his chest and ran to the door, Dog at his heels.

“Don’t forget to finish your school work first!” Azira called after him with a chuckle.

Exactly ten minutes later the bell rang again and Azira turned to see a group of three kids exploring the library. 

“Ah, there you are. I was wondering where the rest of you were. Or should I say where the rest of the Them were.” Azira greeted them.   
  
“Hello Miss Fell,” the short boy with glasses, Wensleydale, said.

“Hi,” the taller boy, Brian, said through a mouthful of chocolate bar, which somehow covered half his face as well.

“Good afternoon Miss Fell. Is Adam here?” Pepper, the lone female in the group, asked in a very professional tone.

“He was here, but I’m afraid he’s most likely home by now,” Azira eyed Brian as his chocolate-covered hand drifted dangerously close to her shelf of new arrivals.

“So, he has the book?” Pepper’s professional tone dropped into excitement.

“He has! And you can check it out when he’s done! I can make a list!” Azira grabbed a pencil and pad of paper.

“Actually, Adam will read it to us and then we’ll act out scenes,” Wensleydale educated.

“How creative!” Azira set the pad back down.

“Thank you Miss Fell!” Brian called from the door.

“Bye!” Pepper waved.

“Goodbye, Miss Fell!” Wensleydale smiled and closed the door behind them.

Only a handful of other patrons stopped by before closing time, for which Azira was grateful. The package on the counter mocked her simply by its presence there. She wondered if she should send it back, but she ignored it, closing up the shop and heading upstairs to her flat to make dinner.

She checked on the meat that had been in the crock pot since before she opened the shop that morning, and set a pot of water on the stove to boil. From the fridge came the carton of milk and three blocks of cheese, which she set about to grating.

“Stop thinking about that silly box, Azira! Maybe some music will help!” She crossed to the small living space and placed a record on her antique gramophone, setting the needle down with care.

There was static, then the sound of brass filled the room with an upbeat tune, drums leading the rhythm. Azira danced back to the stove and poured a box of pasta into the now boiling water and gave it a quick stir.

“Ah yes, just what I needed!” Azira sighed and hummed along with the saxophone solo, swaying and spinning in the kitchen.

She was so focused on the music and the dinner that she nearly didn’t hear the phone ring. On the third ring she threw herself half over the back of the couch and grabbed the phone.

“Celestial Grace Library, I’m afraid we’re most definitely closed.”

“Angel, it’s me. Door’s locked,” Crowley’s voice said.

“I’m so sorry! I’ll be right down!” Azira hung up and ran hastily down the stairs to let him in. “Do forgive me, my dear!” she panted, throwing open the door to find Crowley casually lounged against the door frame.

“No worries, I’m late.” He strode into the library. “Smells good, what is it?”

“I did promise you a homemade dinner! It’ll be ready soon! Come on up!” She invited, heading to the stairs.

“Upstairs?” Crowley asked, placing his glasses in his pocket.

“Yes, that’s where the food is.” Azira wondered what she was missing and then realized that she hadn’t invited him into her flat before. He had always stayed on the first floor, sleeping in the backroom and using the small bathroom adjacent to it. 

“Sure,” Crowley shrugged, but his lips were pulling into a smirk as he followed her upstairs. “Nice. Cozy,” he said upon inspection.The flat was small, but perfectly cozy, as Crowley expected. Windows were draped with damask and there was a small fireplace in front of a lumpy couch, framed by two wing-back chairs. Piles of books covered nearly every surface and a good portion of the floor and the whole place smelled of old pages and vanilla. Old fashioned lamps were lighting the space in a warm glow, as well as a number of candles.

“It’s a bit of a mess right now, I apologize,” Azira was at the stove, stirring two pots. Her hair was beginning to stick to her face from the heat of the steam and she pushed at it with the back of her hand.

“Here, let me help,” Crowley crossed to her and swept his hands through her hair, sending a shiver down her spine.

“What?” Azira breathed, feeling the heat from his body against her back, welcome despite the heat from the stove.

“Just getting your hair out of your face, angel.” Crowley weaved her hair into a french braid, carefully brushing his fingers though every knot, so as not to hurt her. It felt incredible. She closed her eyes and enjoyed every sensation of his fingers against her scalp, her ear, the back of her neck. 

“Almost done,” he whispered. He untied the ribbon she wore and retied it in a bow at the end of the braid. “There. Better?” Crowley stepped back to admire his work and Azira opened her eyes again.

“Much, thank you.” Azira’s voice trembled slightly.

“You’re welcome. Can I help?” Crowley moved to her side and gestured to the stove.

“Would you strain the pasta?” Azira instructed, pointing to the colander, already in the sink and Crowley nodded.


	13. Part 12

The two worked together to make dinner, Azira poured the sauce over the pasta and Crowley mixed it in. Together they sprinkled bread crumbs over the top, only throwing a few pinches at each other in the process. Crowley slid it into the oven to bake while Azira set the timer.

“Anything else?” Crowley asked as he closed the oven door.

“Now we wait,” Azira replied her hand running over her braid absently.

“Or we could dance,” Crowley smirked at her.

“Dance?” 

“The music’s on already, might as well. You do dance, don’t you, angel?” Crowley sauntered forward, hand extended. The record was still rotating around the needle, the brass and strings twisted together, crackling through the speakers.

“I’m afraid not. I’m quite terrible you see-“

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re lying to me,” Crowley teased, circling her.

“I’m being quite honest, I assure you!” Azira protested.

“Nah, I don’t think so.” 

Crowley swept in, wrapped his arms around her waist and hoisted her in a series of spin that took them around the room. She threw her arms around his shoulders and held on tightly.

“ANTHONY!” She cried over his laughter. 

“See, you can dance!” He set her down, took one of her hands in his and led her in a messy waltz all around the flat, stuttering and inelegant.

“It’s been years since I’ve waltzed,” Azira apologized, staring at her feet.

“Don’t worry about it, just watch me.” He tipped her chin up with a finger, forcing their eyes to meet. “Let me lead.”

Azira nodded and stared into golden eyes as they moved around the room. With every lap their movements became easier, more graceful. Azira began to relax, settling into Crowley’s hold, enjoying herself.

“There it is,” Crowley whispered.

“What?” Azira asked.

“That smile.” Crowley’s eyes were on her lips and it was the most distracting thing she’d ever seen. Her mouth went dry and she swallowed hard.

“My smile?” she repeated, knowing he was watching every movement of her formed words.

“Mmhmm, lovely.” He hummed, his gaze shifting back to her eyes.

Azira realized that they had stopped moving. They stood in the middle of the room in each other’s arms, their eyes jumping between their partner’s lips and eyes. Two hearts raced as they shifted closer to each other, arms holding each other tighter. Crowley bent to touch their foreheads together and they breathed together for a few long moments.

“Angel. Azira,” Crowley breathed.

“Anthony,” Azira whispered back.

Their foreheads parted and Azira’s eyes fluttered shut as Crowley’s hand cupped her cheek, guiding her forward.

**BEEP BEEP BEEP!**

Azira practically jumped out of Crowley’s embrace when the timer buzzed. His arms flopped to his sides as he stood dumbly, watching her run to the oven to remove the pan of mac & cheese.

“It looks rather good if I do say so myself!” She said cheerfully, but Crowley could see the pink tinge that painted her face.

“I agree,” Crowley said cheekily, too far away to see the mac and cheese, but enjoying the view all the same.

“_ Anthony _ !” Azira huffed. “ _ Honestly _! You’re an absolute flirt!” She balled up and threw a hand towel at him, which fell to the floor two feet in front of Azira and nowhere near Crowley, who was still staring at her, jaw slightly slack. Azira turned back to the counter and began removing the meat from the crock pot and shredding it between two forks. 

She waited for the usual smart reply, but none came. Instead Crowley closed the distance between them and leaned against the counter beside her, hands gripping the counter to his sides. His head hung down, his hair falling around his face in flaming curls.

“You’re right. I’m a flirt. It’s part of the survival training I had. Be flirty, be charming, and you’ll get a drink, a meal, maybe more,” he spoke softly, carefully, his eyes downcast, his face partially concealed by his hair.

Azira froze, staring at him as he confessed to her.

“I knew I was good at it, I did better than most of the guys, but I hated it. I had to do it a lot to get information out of people. It made me sick every time.”  
  
“Anthony,” Azira reached out and took his hand in hers. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not like that with you,” his gaze met hers and he squeezed her hand. “I need you to know that. I would never lie to you.”

Azira swallowed hard.

“You’re the only person I trust and I… well, I flirt with you because I care.”

Azira’s heart stopped completely. Time felt frozen, then like it was happening in fast forward, speeding along without control. Racing on in a blur that looked vaguely familiar, but couldn't be identified.

Crowley watched Azira carefully. Her eyes were glazed and she looked pale. Was she breathing? He grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her gently.

“You don’t have to say anything, nothing has to change. Shit, I’m sorry. Azira?” Crowley’s eyes were wide with fear. “Azira? Angel? Are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” she placed a palm against his cheek. “Thank you for sharing with me. Dinner?” Her voice was distant and dreamy and Crowley nodded, helping her ladle mac and cheese into bowls and spoon pulled pork on top. “It’s one of my favorites,” Azira babbled as they served themselves and settled at the table. 

“I hope you like it!” Azira poured wine from the decanter on the table. “I based the recipe on one from my grandmother, but gave it my own twist. I like to experiment with flavor combinations sometimes. Here you are,” she handed him a wine glass and sat down with a thud.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Crowley leaned over the table, studying her face for any trace of illness or lying.

“Yes, dear, I suppose I’m just a bit embarrassed.” Azira blushed into her wineglass.

“Pleasssse don’t be embarrassed,” Crowley nearly hissed as he drew out the first word, edging towards distraught. “I shouldn’t have been so pushy. I go too fast. Always have.”

“No, that’s not what I meant. I rather enjoy the fact that you can speak honestly to me.” Azira stared into her lap, then took a big sip of wine. 

“If it wasn’t me, than what is it?” Crowley relaxed minutely. “You can speak honestly to me, too, angel.”

“I know,” Azira forced herself to meet Crowley’s eyes. “I bought something a few days ago, a gift of sorts, but now I’m afraid it seems too personal and I’m not sure what to do.”

“What do you want to do?” Crowley set his chin in his hand.

“I don’t think I can return it. It’s sort of… personalized,” Azira admitted.

“Well now I’m intrigued,” Crowley smirked. Curiosity had struck a nerve. What had she purchased and for who? A hundred things ran through his head, each more kinky than the last, but he held his tongue. “Can you tell me what it is?”

Azira thought for a moment, stirring her mac and cheese absently. “Can you wait until after dinner?”

“I’ll wait as long as you need. I’m not saying I won’t be dying of curiosity, but I’ll wait.” Crowley winked at her and dug into his bowl. “Angel! This is incredible! You really _ can _ cook!”

Azira chuckled and blushed into her wine.

“Is there anything you can’t do?” he asked, shoveling another spoonful into his mouth. “I doubt it! I bet you’re good at everything. Did you sew that outfit yourself?” he gestured with his spoon.

“Not entirely, just the skirt, and some alterations to the vest,” Azira admitted.

“No way! I was joking! But here you are, damn Mary Poppins!”

“Mary Poppins?” Azira tipped her head to one side.

“Practically perfect in every way!” he winked. “Wait, was she an angel? Or maybe a witch? Can angels be witches? No, I don’t think that’d work…” Crowley’s brow was furrowed in deep thought, then he roared with laughter. “You’ve made me such a nice dinner and here I am trying to solve the mystery of Mary Poppins!” He laughed again, then found his bowl empty. “May I have more?”

“Of course, dear! There’s plenty there, have as much as you want. Wine, too.” Azira beamed at him as he stood and refilled his bowl and wine glass.

“Here, angel.” He took her dishes and refilled them as well. “Can’t have you running out.”

“Thank you, dear, but there’s no need for you to serve me,” Azira blushed yet again. She was making quite a habit of it and Crowley found he enjoyed forming the habit of making her blush. Pink was a lovely color on her.

“You made dinner, so it’s only fair.” Crowley shrugged, enjoying the taste of the red wine on his tongue.

“Goodness, I didn’t know one could be blackout drunk after only one glass of wine! You must be to have forgotten that you helped quite a bit with the making of tonight’s meal,” Azira quipped.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” Crowley leaned his lean elbows on the table, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“I suppose it is,” Azira put on her best serious face, which sent them both into giggles.

They both reached for their glasses, only to find them empty.

“Didn’t you just fill these?” Azira asked, staring into her glass.

“Thought so,” Crowley replied, reaching for the decanter, which was also empty.

“Did you drink it?” he asked.

“I don’t recall,” Azira blinked slowly, trying to remember. There was alcohol in her system, yes, but it felt like Crowley himself were intoxicating. “There’s more in the kitchen. White’s in the fridge if you’d prefer.”

“Sounds good!” Crowley stood and crossed to the small kitchen. He took his time browsing the selection. “You’ve got pretty good taste,” he commented.

“Thank you. I do have standards,” she dabbed her napkin against her lips.

Crowley took a deep breath and turned back to the wine to distract himself. Maybe alcohol was a poor decision, considering how close he was to ruining everything and kissing Azira. Or maybe it was just what he needed.

“More wine, angel?” He grabbed the closest bottle of wine and returned to the table.

“Yes, please!”


	14. Part 13

Azira and Crowley went through a total of three bottles of wine before they decided it was time to clean up from dinner. Azira stood too quickly, swaying on her feet and Crowley laughed, throwing out his arm to steady her, but instead knocked her off balance more. She gripped the table tightly and plopped back into her chair, giggling uncontrollably.

“Very graceful, angel,” Crowley drawled. “You must be drunk.”

“I’m not drunk! And you couldn’t do much better!” Azira tried to sound stern, but failed, unable to stop her giggles from overflowing.

“I can!” Crowley stood straight up, did a spin, and ended with a bow, all without wavering.

“How?” Azira’s jaw fell open.

“I’ve got my tricks,” he held out his hand to help her to her feet, which she gladly took. “Now, let’s get this place cleaned up.” Azira carefully carried the dishes to the sink while Crowley splashed in the soapy water.

“Do you plan on washing anything or just splashing around?” Azira put her hands on her hips, fighting a smile. Crowley looked adorable, all smiles as he dipped his hands in and out of the warm water, the alcohol breaking down his barriers a bit more.

“Haven’t decided yet,” he smirked, then drew his hand through the water and sending it to Azira.

“Anthony!” She howled as the water soaked her front. “You’re going to wish you hadn’t done that!” She now wore a determined look and Crowley was frightened.

“No, no, I’m sorry. Please forgive me!” Crowley tried to block her from getting to the sink, but she snuck her way in.

“Too late for apologies!” She cupped water in her hand and let it spill down his face. “And no room for mercy.”

“You had your chance, angel. Now get ready for hell!” Crowley’s eyes narrowed, his grin widening over his whole face.

The two stood at the sink, throwing water at each other. At one point Azira grabbed the sprayer and shot Crowley, who was attempting to retreat.

“Careful of the books, Azira!” he called, launching himself to the floor, protected by the couch.

“That’s not fair!” Azira protested. “You’ve got to stay in this area!”

“We never set borders!” Crowley popped his head up, red hair soaking, clinging to his face and curling around his jawline.

“I suppose not,” she returned the sprayer to it’s place and crossed to the couch, hands raised. “Truce?”

“Truce,” Crowley agreed, pushing himself up. 

“Can we finish the dishes now, please?” Azira giggled, noticing how soaked Crowley was. His already tight clothes clung to every inch of his body, fully showing off his trim physique.

“Sure, but then I’m going to have to find some dry clothes to wear. Probably need to go shopping or do laundry. Don’t have many clothes at the moment.” Crowley shifted uncomfortably in his wet clothes.

“Oh! Of course. You start the dishes and I’ll be right back!” Azira flew to the door.

“I thought you were helping!” Crowley’s hands were on his hips. _God, those hips!_

“Still helping, just give me a moment!” Azira called over her shoulder. She bounded down the stairs, glad that the effects of the wine were starting to lessen. She crossed to the desk and lifted the package from the desk. She stared at it for a moment, took a deep breath, and hurried back up the stairs. She tossed the box onto the table, then turned, feeling the discomfort of wet clothes begin to irritate her skin. “Oh, that just won’t do.”

“Aren't you going to help?” Crowley called from the sink.

“Just one more moment, please!” She carefully unbuttoned her vest and untied her bowtie, draping them over the back of the chair. Luckily the vest had taken the worst of the blows, so her shirt was fairly dry. She opened the top button of her blouse and rolled her sleeves up to better assist with the dishes.

Crowley stared at her, unblinking. He couldn’t help it. She was always so fully covered and here he was, in her flat, tipsy and watching her roll her sleeves up, revealing beautiful cream skin dusted with light freckles. He felt utterly indecent, but he couldn’t bring himself to look away. He was being selfish and he knew it, soaking her up like a sponge, but if she were ashamed, she wouldn’t have done it right there, within view, right?

“Told you I’d be back!” She was standing beside him and smiling.

“Yup!” His voice cracked. He hastily cleared his throat. “What’s that?” he asked, eyeing the plain brown box on the table.

“I told you you’d find out after dinner,” Azira avoided his eye.

“It is after dinner,” Crowley pointed out.

“Not until we’re cleaned up, then!” Azira huffed playfully.

“Alright, alright. Better make this quick, then.”

When the last of the dishes had been dried and put away Crowley casually sauntered over to the table, running a long finger over the box. 

“Do I get to find out now?” Crowley asked.

“I suppose you do,” she handed him a pair of scissors.

“I get to open it?”

“It’s for you, so yes.” Azira stood at his side, wringing her hands.

“For me?” Crowley stared at the box. A gift, she had said. For him. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to. I hope it’s not out of line,” her hand wringing intensified and he pulled the scissors across the tape.

He peeled back the flaps to reveal something black wrapped in clear plastic. He carefully pulled it out of the box and ripped open the plastic. It was soft and silky black satin with red piping along the edge. He set it down on the table and shifted the two pieces to reveal a pajama top and matching bottoms. A pj set, his first proper set, and it delighted him. Real pajamas, and such a fine pair, too. He ran his hands along the fabric, hearing the soft shift of satin and feeling the coolness beneath his fingers.

“Do you…” Azira trailed off, cheeks a turning the most endearing shade of magenta.

“They’re incredible. Don’t deserve it, though,” Crowley was still staring at the gift.

“I disagree. But you haven’t seen the, well, the personal touch,” Azira shifted the top in Crowley’s hands so he could see the embroidery on the shirt pocket. In an elegant, curving script of red were the letters _ AC. _

_ Personal _. He swallowed hard. 

“_Angel _,” he breathed. “This is too much.”

“I hope I haven’t offended you. It was rather presumptuous of me. I had noticed that you didn’t have anything comfortable to sleep in and I saw a sale online and it seemed rather perfect and I couldn’t help the personal touch, it just seemed like something you’d like.” She was staring at the embroidered pocket, blushing still and yet again. 

That blush!

“Please forgive me,” she whispered, staring at the floor.

“Azira,” he dropped the shirt onto the table as her eyes swept up to meet his. He crossed the short distance between them, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her close to him. He pressed his lips to hers for a sweet moment, then pulled away just enough to see the dazed look in her eyes.

She shook her head slightly, then her eyes were clear and bright. 

“Oh, _ Anthony _!” She wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pulled him into her again, their lips crashing together, rough and unfamiliar at first, then finding smooth waters and settling against each other as if they had been designed to fit against the other. 

Her lips were silk smooth against his and his were rough and earthy on hers, she smelled of vanilla and he of soil, both melting into the heat of the other.

Her fingers brushed through the hair at the back of his neck, sending shivers down his spine. He ran a hand along her back and nipped at her bottom lip, earning him a small gasp.

“Too much,” he asked, moving to press kisses to her cheeks and forehead.

“Oh, _ darling _,” she whispered, holding him close. “I don’t want you to go.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” he whispered into her ear as he continued to kiss along her jawline.

“Anthony,” she gently pushed him back so she could face him. “I don’t want you to go. I know we have the Arrangement and you’ll only be here until you’re sure I’m safe, but I don’t want you to. I want you to stay. I- I don’t want to lose you.” Tears were stinging at her eyes.

“You won’t. I want to stay here. With you,” he moved his hands up to hold the sides of her neck and face, large and warm and comforting.

“You do?” she choked as the tears began to fall.

“Yessss,” he hissed, kissing her again, a chaste press of lips that left hers tingling when he pulled away. “I couldn’t explain it before, but now I understand. Running into your library was like coming home.”

Azira tangled her hands in Crowley’s hair and pulled herself up onto her tiptoes to kiss him properly.


	15. Part 14

Azira smiled at the sight before her. Crowley was on the couch in the backroom, sleeping soundly, wrapped in his new black satin pajama set. His limbs were thrown in all directions and his hair was spilling across the pillow, glowing like a flame in the morning light.

“Anthony, darling. It’s time to get up. Anathema will be expecting you shortly,” Azira cooed, brushing her fingers through his hair. She had set a steaming mug of coffee on the table by the couch for him.

“G’morn, angel.” Crowley gave her the most charming sleepy smile and she couldn’t help herself, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead.

“Coffee’s on the table for you. Best get up. You don’t want to be fired for tardiness so early on in your career!”

“Mmmffshh,” Crowley muttered, shoving his face back into his pillow.

“Come on, dear.” She shook his shoulder. “I’m going to open the library.”

She left the room and closed the door behind her so he could have some privacy to prepare for the day, then set about her usual morning routine. She turned on the lights, did a quick walk through of the shelves, taking mental notes of which ones needed attention, then unlocked the door and turned the sign to “Open.”

She crossed back to the desk and was writing a to-do list for the day when Crowley emerged, dressed in his usual black-on-black ensemble, his hair tied back into a bun with…

“Is that my ribbon?” Azira asked, reaching out to touch the soft blue material.

“Hope you don’t mind. I couldn’t find an elastic and it was on your desk, figured you didn’t need it,” he caught her hand and brought it to his lips.

“I don’t mind. I think it looks rather dashing,” she blushed. “Like a knight carrying a lady’s handkerchief in a tournament,”

“So, I’m a knight?” Crowley raised an eyebrow.

“That has yet to be seen,” Azira joked.

“Has yet to be seen?” Crowley feigned offence.

“I haven’t seen you ride or horse, wear a suit of armor, or engage in a battle. I highly doubt you’ve been knighted,” Azira slid closer to him, grinning.

“There’s a lot you don’t know about me.” He wrapped his arms around her waist and held her tight.

“I suppose there is. I’d like to learn,” Azira tipped her chin up, inviting.

“I can teach you so many things, angel.” His eyes glimmered and he kissed her. She melted against him, her hands against his chest, her lips moving under his. His hands were in her hair and she slid her arms around his back, sighing against his mouth.

“What exactly is going on here, Miss Fell?” a voice boomed. A broad shadow crossed the floor from the silhouette in the doorway.

Azira tried to push Crowley away, but he held her firmly against him.

“Good morning to you, too, Misssster….” Crowley’s voice was deep and rumbling, just the hint of a hiss coming through.

“Gabriel. I own this building.” He said coldly, then turned his eyes to Azira. “Now, Miss Fell, what exactly is going on here? I don’t believe that I have to tell you how entirely inappropriate it is for you to be engaging in this kind of... activity,” he sneered, “ in the library during open hours.”

“Gabriel, I-” Azira tried to interject, but her voice was lost to his deep baritone speeding onward.

“I expected so much more from you,” he began to pace authoritatively, hands clasped behind his back. “Never did I ever expect to have to worry about you _ fraternizing _ with someone, but especially not a criminal.”

“I beg your pardon!” Azira exclaimed.

“I do have the pleasure of addressing Anthony J. Crowley, do I not?” Gabriel turned on Crowley, striding forward until they were nearly nose to nose. Azira clung tightly to Crowley’s shirt in hopes that he would keep his arms around her instead of starting a brawl.

“What does the J stand for?” Azira couldn’t help but ask.

“Eh, it’s just a J really,” he said softly to her with a minute shrug.

“Oh,” Azira nodded against Crowley’s chest, 

“How do you know me?” Crowley sneered.

“I have people that survey my buildings for me and they told me all about you. How you ran into this library over a week ago to hide from your associates and you weren’t seen leaving for hours. I know when you were born, when you left home, every date of arrest, I know all about your sordid past. Do you?” He shifted suddenly, turning to Azira. “What exactly do you know about this man, Miss Fell? From what I’ve heard he’s not the kind of person you should be hanging around. He’s nothing but trouble. Will never amount to anything.”

“Stop!” Azira yelled, mind clear, and suddenly acutely aware of every detail. She could hear the slight catch in Gabriel’s breath at her outburst, she could feel the steady beating of Crowley’s heart against her, feel the blood pulsing through her veins, she could catalogue each mote of dust drifting through the air, and the ticking of the grandfather clock had never seemed so loud before. “I won’t hear any more of this!”

“Won’t you?” Gabriel cackled, his grin positively evil. “Need I remind you that you have nothing without me. I own this building and half of the books on the shelves. You _ need _me. Consider that carefully when choosing sides here, Miss Fell.”

He swept toward the door and stopped a foot away from it.

“He doesn’t love you, not really. He can’t. He wasn’t made to love. His kind takes what they want and leave people behind, broken and alone. Poor optimistic _little Miss Fell_ thinks he actually cares for her." His voice was higher, teasing, mocking, then dropped. "Just wait, he’ll betray you.” 

The bell jingled, the door slammed, and he was gone.

“He can’t… you didn’t… what have I done?” Azira buried her face in Crowley’s chest.

“Shhh,” Crowley rubbed his hands along her back and arms. “It’s okay, angel, he’s gone." 

“It’s not true. It can’t be.” Azira brought her hands to either side of her head and squeezed.

“I’m sorry, but it is. I told you, I got into a lot of trouble and I’ve been hauled down to the station more than once, though the charges never stuck. Most of the time I was given credit for something that wasn’t me, so I was innocent. Never got caught for something I actually did. Always tried not to do much of anything,” Crowley babbled.

“No, not that. I don’t care about that,” Azira was surprisingly steady. “The rest of it.” She looked up into Crowley’s eyes, her face red and blotchy, her eyes pink and watery. “You told me that you were trained to flirt, but that I’m different. Am I really different?”

“_Yessss_,” Crowley hissed softly.

“You truly care for me and won’t just up and leave?” Azira demanded.

“I won’t leave you,” Crowley swore.

“How can I know that? I can’t understand why you would want to stay here, to be with me, when you could have anyone. Do you even know the way people look at you? You could have your pick of the lot, you could have them all if you wanted!” Azira was working herself up, trying to scramble away from Crowley, but he didn’t let her.

“Angel, no.” Crowley cupped Azira’s chin so he could look into her eyes. “I’m not like that. I don’t want them, I don’t care about them. All those other people I flirted with before, they were targets, assignments I needed to stay alive. I never cared about anyone the way I care about you.”

“You might not feel that way tomorrow. Or next week.” Azira gave up fighting and closed her eyes, fresh tears streaming down her cheeks, both from sadness and anger.

“This is just what Gabriel wants! He wants you to throw me out so he can hand me over to the guys. You can’t let him win!” Crowley implored.

“Is that it? I’m your protection. That’s all I am to you?” Azira’s brain was short circuiting. She barely understood what she was saying. What she understood was that Gabriel had opened a rift between her and Crowley. Gabriel wanted her to do something, so she should do it. She had always done as she was told. But she didn’t want to now, she wanted to close the rift, she wanted Crowley to stay. Gabriel, the library, Crowley… the pressure was pulling her apart.

“Azira, please look at me,” Crowley’s voice was deep and soft and lovely. He hated seeing her so upset, torn. If punching Gabriel in the face would help, he’d gladly do it, but it wasn’t all Gabriel’s fault. No, Crowley was the cause of her pain. He wished he knew how to fix it, how to make it all go away and see her smile again. “I know it’s too early to say it and I don’t expect you to feel the same, but this is the absolute truth. I love you. I’ve loved you since the first day I ran in here and landed on the floor next to you. I love your silly tartan patterned everything, your too-many-layers-librarian look, your blue eyes, and the way you glow when you’re happy. I love that you’re soft, but strong, you’re innocent, but fiercely intelligent, you’re warm and open and practical and perfect. And I especially love that you’re just a little bit of a bastard.” 

Azira tried to protest, but Crowley silenced her with a kiss to one tear-stained cheek. 

“I am in love with you Azira Fell and I’ll be by your side for 6,000 years if that’s what it takes to prove it to you.”

Azira buried her face in his shoulder and cried, clinging to him, comforted by his embrace and the gentle kisses he pressed against her hair.


	16. Part 15

When Azira finally let herself out of Crowley’s embrace, she was exhausted.

“I’m so sorry, Anthony. I shouldn’t have doubted you.” She stepped back, staring down.

“It’s okay, angel.”

“No, it’s not. Gabriel has always had a hold over my life and he takes no issue using that to his advantage. I don’t know how to go against orders, I was raised to obey and not question.”

“So, listen to me instead. Take my order. Don’t listen to him. Listen to yourself.” Crowley’s voice was suddenly commanding.

“What if I do the wrong thing?” Azira asked, fear in her eyes.

“I don’t think you can do the wrong thing, angel, not if you follow your instincts.” He brushed her hair back away from her face tenderly.

“Thank you, I-” she glanced over at the clock and realized that Crowley was most definitely late for work.

“Oh dear! You’re late! I’ll phone over and let Anathema know what happened.” She used her sleeve to wipe her tears. Why she needed to make herself look presentable to make a phone call was besides the point.

“Don’t worry, angel. I’ll explain it all to her. Maybe you should close the library for the day. Make yourself some tea or cocoa and rest,” he cupped her cheek and gently ran his thumb in circles against her skin.

“I can’t. Gabriel would-”

“Fuck Gabriel!” Crowley burst, causing Azira to startle. “Sorry,” he pressed a kiss to her forehead. “Gabriel can suck it and I’ll tell him that if I ever see his face again. And for the way he’s treated you, he may not have a face by the time he leaves.”

“_Anthony_!” Azira was both shocked and delighted.

“Take some time, angel. Maybe open after lunch for a few hours, just for the kids that come by after school. I know you like when they stop in.”

“How do you know me so well already?” Azira sniffled.

“I’ve seen how you are with them, you can’t help but light up when you’re happy. And don’t worry, you know me, too.” Crowley hadn’t missed the brief darkening of her expression. “The pjs were perfect.”

“There’s still so much I don’t know,” her brow furrowed.

“We have lots of time to learn. 6,000 years, remember?” Crowley’s crooked smile warmed Azira’s heart. 

“I think I will close the library today, but I’d rather not be alone. Perhaps I could see if Anathema needs any additional assistance today?”

“I’m sure she’d love that,” Crowley took her hand and intertwined their fingers.

They walked, hands clasped, across the street and into Device’s Divinations, eliciting an excited squeal from the proprietress when they entered.

“Are you two…?” Her eyes were bright behind her large glasses.

“What together? Don’t tell me you saw this in your crystal ball,” Crowley teased, wrapping his arm around Azira’s waist and pulling her against his side.

“Crowley, I didn’t need any help to see that this,” she gestured to them, “was going to happen. It was _ painfully _obvious.”

“It was not!” Crowley protested,

“You’re really not as smooth as you think you are,” Anathema laughed.

“Congratulations,” came a voice from the corner.

A man was standing awkwardly, clutching at the strap of his cross-shoulder bag and smiling nervously at them. He wore clothes that looked like they had been tailored to someone just too wide and tall for him. Thick-rimmed glasses sat upon his face and his short dark hair was disheveled, but he had a kind face.

“Hello, I’m Newt,” he stepped forward to shake their hands. “I run deliveries.”

“Crowley,” the redhead stuck out a hand and took Newt’s slightly trembling one. “I’m here to tend the plants. And this is Azira, my… angel.” Crowley gestured to the blonde, who blushed.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she shook his hand with a smile.

“You, too. You run the library across the street, yeah?” Newt asked, adjusting the strap of his bag again.

“Yes, I do.” Azira beamed then turned to Anathema. “I must apologize for Anthony’s tardiness today. I’m afraid we had a bit of an unexpected trouble this morning, so please don’t blame him.”

“Is everything okay?” Anathema swept around the desk, skirts whispering as she walked, and took Azira’s hands in hers, narrowing her eyes and looking at her with intensity. “Your aura’s all wrong. What exactly happened?” She directed the question to Crowley.

“Trouble with the boss. Turns out he doesn’t like me hanging around.”

“It’s worse than that. He’s a powerful man, he can get Anthony into a lot of trouble, and he threatened to take away the library!” Azira slumped against Crowley.

“Don’t worry angel, I’ll handle it.” Crowley's voice was hard and cold, devoid of any of the Anthony she cared for.

“No,” Azira regained her strength and stood up straight, shoulders squared. “We will handle it together. But we will need help, I think,” she added looking to Anathema and Newt, who both nodded at her, the latter with a perplexed look on his face. “Anathema, do you think you could spare Newt for a few hours?” Azira asked.

“Anything you need,” she nodded.

“Thank you. Newt, I don’t mean this as an insult, but you don’t stand out in a crowd,” Azira smiled apologetically at him, but he simply shrugged and nodded, already knowing this about himself. “I need you to keep an eye out for Gabriel and warn us if he’s coming. Maybe follow him and find out who he’s talking to. Can you do that?”

“Yes, ma’am!” Newt saluted and marched across the room and out the door.

“But he…” Azira stared after him.

“Give it a second,” Anathema smirked.

A moment later Newt reentered the shop. “Sorry, who am I looking for?”

Once Newt had been brought up to speed he set off, bringing with him a few deliveries to help him blend in, not that he needed help doing so.

Crowley went about his work in the backroom, leaving Anathema and Azira up front to restock the shelves and package up some new tea blends, including the Angel Blend.

“I do believe this is my favorite,” Azira said, breathing in the lovely mix of lavender, chamomile, mint, and vanilla. “And not just because Anthony named it for me,” she giggled, measuring out the dried buds and scooping them into small tins.

“So, how did it go last night? Obviously pretty well!” Anathema had quite the mischievous grin. “Tell me everything!”

“Well, we made dinner and he braided my hair and then we danced while dinner was in the oven and we almost kissed, but then the timer went off and I was very flustered. Then we ate dinner and he was incredibly impressed, even though it wasn’t anything fancy, and we drank quite a lot of wine, and ended up having a splash fight at the sink.”

“Azira…” Anathema tried to hurry her along.

“I’m getting there! He confided in me, told me about his past. He trusts me.” She smiled at that. “And then I gave him the pair of pajamas I bought for him.”

“You bought him pajamas?”

“He didn’t have any and he’s been sleeping on the couch, which can’t be comfortable, and I just wanted to do something nice for him. He seemed to like them because he kissed me.”

“He kissed you over pajamas?” Anathema laughed.

“Not because of the pajamas!” Azira protested. “I hope it was because he quite wanted to kiss me.”

“Why didn’t you kiss him?” Anathema’s mischievous grin widened. “You wanted to, didn’t you?”

“Of course I did! But I couldn’t!” Azira huffed exasperatedly.

“Why not? Embrace being a modern woman!” Anathema laughed.

“It’s not that, it’s… I couldn’t help but feel that I was being foolish.”

“Foolish, how?” Anathema smile dissipated.

“Foolish in thinking he would return my feelings. I don’t really seem his type, do I?” Azira smoothed her skirt.

“What is his type?” Anathema pressed.

“He’s so handsome, tall and slim and, well gorgeous. So fashionable and clever, and you should see the way people stare at him when he walks by! I couldn’t believe that he’d be interested in someone like me.”  
  
“And what do you think you are, Azira?” Anathema folded her hands together at her chin.

“Well, I’m a bit too soft. I’m not at all fashionable. I’ve been told I’m rather frumpy and boring and that’s not Anthony at all.”

“Azira, that’s not _ you _ at all.” Anathema reached across the table and offered her hand, in which Azira placed hers. “You may not be tall and thin, but you are _ gorgeous _. Clearly Crowley has excellent taste. And honestly, I think you’re too good for him,” she added in a whisper, winking at her, earning a laugh from Azira. “Those people that said those things to you don’t matter. What matters if the people who care about you. Crowley, me, and I’m including Newt, too, we all think you’re wonderful and beautiful and kind and powerful and that’s why we’re drawn to you.”

“Thank you, Anathema. You’re a dear friend,” Azira squeezed her hand.

“And just in case you need more proof, and because I think it’ll be adorable…” Azira stared after Anathema as she crossed to the backroom and opened the door. “Crowley, give me three words to describe Azira,” she called in, keeping her eyes locked on Azira’s.

“Angelic, perfect, incredible,” Crowley called without hesitation. “Why?”

“Just taking a survey!” she replied.

“Wait! Can I change one of my words to sexy-as-fu-”

“Thank you for participating!” She let the door swing shut and returned to the table, laughing at the slightly scandalized look on Azira’s face. “You never know what you’ll find when you look at yourself through the eyes of those who love you.”

The front door swung open with a _ bang _ and Newt burst in looking more disheveled than before, his tie loose and slung over his shoulder, his shirt untucked and his glasses askew.

“He’s headed this way!”


	17. Part 16

“Not if I have anything to say about it!” Anathema hiked up her skirts and sprinted to the back room. Azira stood frozen, staring at Newt, who was hunched over, hands on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

“Where is he now?” Azira asked.

“A few blocks down. He was at a cafe with someone and I heard him say he was going back to the library to give you another chance.” He tried to fix his tie as he spoke, but it wouldn’t cooperate with him, so he gave up and sunk into the closest chair.

“There!” Anathema had emerged from the backroom, Crowley in tow, their arms full of plants and bowls. They crossed the room in a few long strides and set everything out on the table.

“Who was he meeting with?” Azira asked.

“Don’t know. Kinda short with dark hair and a weird accent.” Newt described, helping Anathema with the plants as she flipped through the pages of an ancient looking book.

“Shit!” Crowley slammed his fist down on the table.

“You know them?” Azira asked, wishing she hadn’t.

“Yeah. The boss.” Crowley’s voice was cold.

“Gabriel’s working with your boss?” Azira went pale. “That’s how he knew about you.”

“We’ve got to run,” Crowley grabbed Azira’s hand and pulled her toward the door. “I’ll take you anywhere you want to go.”

“No,” Azira planted her feet and stood her ground. “I won’t run.”

“Why not?” Crowley turned back to her, his eyes narrowed, but she could see it was fear, not anger, pulsing through him.

“This is our home and I will fight for it. For you. For us.” She squeezed Crowley’s hand.

“This will help!” Anathema wiped her hands on her skirt and shoved a vial at Crowley.

“What’s this?” Crowley stared at the small glass filled with a strange purple liquid.

“It won’t hold forever, but it’ll keep him away for now. You just need to pour it over the door handle.” Anathema instructed.

“A spell?” Azira asked.

“Go!” Anathema shoved Crowley to the door.

“What if Gabriel sees him?” Azira asked.

“Run fast. Either into the library or back here. I can protect us here and the spell will protect you there.” Anathema took Azira’s hand from Crowley’s. “Run.”

Crowley nodded and ran. He dashed across the street, not paying any mind to the glowing sign indicating that it was not safe to cross, weaving around the cars that honked at him as he ran by. When he reached the library, he pulled the stopper out of the vial and poured the liquid over the knob, then turned back.

Anathema stood in the doorway, hand extended toward the library, muttering to herself. Crowley jumped as the knob glowed for a moment, then there was a bright burst of light, as if a camera flash had gone off. He rubbed at his eyes.

“Hurry!” Azira cried, her attention down the street, spying a familiar figure striding quickly in their direction. 

“Hold on, I can’t see!” Crowley called, stumbling to the curb. “Could have warned me it would do that,” he grumbled, wishing he hadn’t left his glasses in the plant nursery.

“_Anthony _! Run now!” Azira called, her attention torn between Gabriel’s swift approach and the traffic lights. It had just turned red, giving Crowley enough time to dash across the street and into the safety of Device’s Divinations before Gabriel could catch him.

“Blind!” He called back.

“Trust me! Just run!” Azira begged. Anathema was pulling her back into the shop. “Perfect, dear. A bit faster, please. Watch the curb there! Dog on your left! Well done! Straight on!” She coached him, helping him avoid obstacles. When he was close enough, she grabbed his arm and pulled him into the shop. Anathema slammed the door shut, bolted it and muttered a few words, just for good measure.

Newt was cleaning up any evidence of the spell from the table and didn’t seem at all bothered by the strange turn of events. 

“You two, in the back,” Anathema pushed them toward the nursery. “I’ll let you know when it’s safe to come out.”

“I expect a full report. Every detail,” Crowley stated, eyes blinking furiously, his eyes still flashing with the bright light.

“You’ll get one,” she promised. “Azira.”

Azira nodded and led Crowley to the backroom. 

“Thanks for cleaning up,” she heard Anathema say and glanced back just in time to see her give Newt a peck on the cheek, turning him into a blushing disaster.

Azira pushed Crowley down onto a stool at the back of the room.

“Are you alright, dear?” Azira asked, fretting and fussing over him, pushing his hair away from his face, feeling his forehead, taking his pulse at his wrist.

“I’m fine, angel. Just got those spots in my eyes. I’ll be okay in a minute.” Crowley took her wrists in his hands and forced them to stop their fidgeting. “Left my glasses here. Do you see them?”

“Yes” Azira pulled her hands away and picked up the dark spectacles. “Here they are.” She placed them into his hand and lingered there. “I’m sorry.”

“What in heaven do you have to be sorry for!” Crowley shook his head.

“It should have been me. It’s my library, he’s my… well, it should have been me,” Azira’s legs were shaking and she sunk to the floor, laying her head against Crowley’s leg. His hand found her hair immediately.

“I wouldn’t have let you. I was just fulfilling my part of the Arrangement. Couldn’t be argued,” Crowley teased gently.

“I take it back,” Azira chuckled.

“Take what back?”

“You are a knight.”

Crowley slithered off the stool and pulled Azira into his lap, cradling her.

“Damn right.” He kissed along her cheek, placing one sweet peck on the tip of her nose.

“Anthony?” she cupped his face and turned it to face her. “How are your eyes? Can you see yet?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” he nodded.

“Good. I want you to see me when I say this. Anthony J. Crowley, I love you, too.”

“Nkg!” He froze. His angel was in his lap and she was telling him that she loved him. Her eyes were gentle and sincere, her cheeks flushed a pale pink, her bowtie askew and her hair windswept from the commotion. Perfection. “Say it again.”

Azira beamed at him, brighter than the flash that had blinded him minutes before. He looked dazed, but was wearing that crooked smile she loved so much.

“I love you, my knight in shining armor, my protector, my dearest Anthony.”

Crowley surged forward and kissed her.

“My love,” she breathed against his lips.

“My love,” he pressed against her cheek.

“I love you,” she whispered into his ear.

“I love you,” he promised with every kiss against angelic skin.


	18. Part 17

“It’s safe to come out now _ ooooooooh _!” Anathema poked her head into the room and, upon seeing their current state, nearly whooped. 

Azira's back was pressed against the floor, with Crowley hovering over her protectively, kissing her senseless. She had fistfuls of the back of his shirt in her hands, one leg hooked over one of his to steady them both. He was balancing on one arm while the other hand was cradling the back of her head against the concrete floor.

“Sorry to interrupt, but if you kids don’t stop necking, you’ll break your curfew and you won’t be able to go to the sock hop next week!” Anathema was doing her best impression of a bumbling American cop from the 1950’s.

Azira blushed, but Crowley didn’t stop kissing her. She didn’t mind.

“Sorry, angel,” he muttered against her lips as he slid his hand out of underneath her head, raising it to flip Anathema off.

“Anthony, _ really _,” Azira scolded, turning her head toward Anathema with an apologetic look. Crowley’s attention did not waver, peppering kisses along her cheek and jawline.

“I guess I’ll leave you to it then,” Anathema shrugged and winked at Azira and exited.

“She’s gone, angel. Come back to me.” Crowley trailed one long finger along her jawline, hooking at her chin and pulled her mouth back to his.

“I’m right here, love,” Azira hummed happily into his kiss.

“Tell me again,” he had a gentle command in his voice.

“I love you.”

He kissed her soundly.

“Again.”

She cupped his cheek, pausing his ministrations as their eyes met. “I love you Anthony.”

“I love you, Azira. My angel.” He pressed their foreheads together for a moment, then shifted to lay beside her. “We should probably go out there and find out what happened.”

“We should,” Azira agreed, sitting up, shoulders slumped forward.

“But you don’t want to,” Crowley suggested, sitting up beside her.

“I wish we could just stay here. It’s safe here, we’re together here.” Azira clenched her fists in her lap.

“And you’re afraid of what will happen once we step out there, back into reality,” Crowley finished for her. She nodded. “I’m afraid, too.”

“You are?” She looked up at him in surprise.

“Bloody terrified!” he took her hand in his. “Angel, I want to stay here, too. I want to hide here where I know you’re safe. I was serious before when I said I’d run with you, take you anywhere. I’d do anything to be sure that you weren’t in harm's way.”

“I know you would,” Azira took his hand and pressed it against her cheek. “But we don’t have to run. We’ll find a way to fix this. Together.”

“Together.” Crowley stood and helped Azira to her feet. “Or,” his devilish grin returned, “we could stay here just a little longer.” He wrapped his long arms around her and lowered her into a dip.

“Anthony!” She giggled, clinging to him.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” he winked and captured her lips once again. Azira sighed into it and Crowley pulled away, smiling at her, golden eyes soft, like sunshine in the morning. “Alright, done now. We’ve got a plan to create.” He set Azira back onto her feet, took her hand in his, and led her to the storefront.

“You two done already?” Anathema winked at them. She was seated at the table with Newt. A teapot sat in the middle, surrounded by four teacups.

“What happened?” Azira asked as Crowley pulled out a chair for her.

Anathema gestured for Newt to pour the tea, which he did, his hands surprisingly steady.

“He saw Crowley run in here, but tried the library door anyway. Must’ve thought Crowley was running away from him and that you might still be there. The spell held, but I doubt it’ll keep him away long. He knows that we’re part of this now. He didn’t come here, but I’m sure we’ll be paid a visit soon.” Anathema’s voice was even and clear, unafraid. Newt slid the full teacups around the table a,d Azira wrapped her hands around hers, relishing it’s warmth.

“And Be- the boss?” Crowley asked.

“No, he was alone,” Newt replied. “What now?”

“Maybe you should leave, just for a few days. Newt and I can keep watch and report to you.” Anathema suggested.

“No, I won’t!” Azira tensed.

“Not far, just get a hotel room or stay with a friend.” Anathema looked to Crowley, who took Azira’s hand in his and set it on his lap. “And you can’t open the library. You’re welcome to come here during the day, to keep watch and help out here if you want.”

“If Gabe’s working with the boss, there’s a high chance of property damage. We should remove as many books as we can. And whatever we can from the flat, too.” Crowley’s voice was low and detached.

“What will they do?” Azira’s voice faltered.

“Flood, fire, bricks through windows, accidental car crashes through storefronts, they’ve done it all. Best protect what we can.” Crowley stared at the table, but held Azira’s hand firm.

“You can’t go back in there, Azira. Newt and I will get your things from the flat, just make a list,” Anathema pushed a pad of paper and pencil across the table.

“What about the books? Most of them are first editions, irreplaceable.” Azira could feel herself shaking.

“We’ll do what we can. Can use the van to transport them to a storage facility,” Newt tried to reassure her, but his voice cracked.

“What about the kids? Can they help?” Crowley asked.

“The kids?” Azira wasn’t focusing, her mind on images of the bookshop burning, smoke filling the air, flames bursting through the windows.

“Yeah, your favorites. Or any patrons. They can help box up the books and load ‘em into the van. Could save a lot more if others would help. Do you know how to contact them?” Crowley ran his thumb over the back of Azira’s hand.

“Yes, I have a contact book on the library desk. Call Adam Young and he’ll let his friends know. And maybe Tracey would help. She might bring Shadwell, though don’t let him touch the first editions, he’s too rough. Oh, what will we tell them?” The smoke and debris was clearing from her mind.

“We’ll say that Gabriel is taking the building and you’re relocating,” Crowley’s voice was commanding, turning his attention to Newt. “Can you get the book and make the calls?” 

“Yeah, I’ll go now.”

“Wait, I’ll give you the list of things to retrieve from my flat,” Azira began to scribble furiously on the notepad. “Crowley’s things are in the backroom of the library.”

“Just stuff it all in the black duffel. Make sure you get all the books from the flat, too.” Crowley instructed Newt, who nodded vigorously. “I’m sorry about this, angel.”

“We’re going to make it through this, that’s what matters.” Azira’s shoulders were set and her mouth was drawn in a tight line. “Where will you stay?”

“I can find a hotel. Should I book you a room, too?” Crowley asked.

“I suppose so, although I don’t know how to pay for it. I don’t have much cash and don’t have a credit card. I used to get a weekly stipend from Gabriel, but I doubt that will continue,” Azira admitted.

“Forget the hotel,” Anathema decided. “Azira, you’ll stay with me and Crowley, you’ll stay with Newt.”

“You okay with that?” Crowley asked Newt, who simply shrugged and smiled.

“It’s settled,” Anathema nodded decisively. “Now, we’ll need the key and the list. We’ll be back soon.”

Azira handed both to Anathema, who linked her arm with Newt’s and led him out of the shop.

“I’m proud of you,” Crowley pulled his chair closer to Azira’s and pulled her into an embrace. “You’re incredibly strong.”

“Thank you, my dear. You being here helps immensely.” Azira held him close.

“Me being here is the reason for all the trouble,” Crowley muttered.

“Anthony!” Azira pushed against Crowley’s chest, her features stern. “I would rather live with trouble my whole life if it meant having you in it, than live a quiet life without you.” She placed her hands on either side of his face, a gentle warmth. “Something was missing from my life, like I was waiting for a piece of a puzzle to be fit into place. Nothing ever came close to filling that hole, that is, until you.”

“Oh, angel,” Crowley tucked his head into Azira’s shoulder and she could feel hot tears soaking into her shirt.

“I love you, Anthony, and I would move heaven and earth to fix this,” Azira held him tight against her. His tears were slowing and he shifted back to sit up.

“I love you, Azira, and I’d do the same. I will.”


	19. Part 18

That afternoon, Anathema and Newt packed up the first load of books, with the help of Tracy and Shadwell. Tracy was very sweet and just a little eccentric, chattered on happily about the neighborhood happenings, and Shadwell was just as gruff and rough as Azira described, grumbling the whole time. They loaded up the van to capacity and Anathema sent Newt and Shadwell off to reserve a storage unit while she and Tracy boxed up more books. Azira and Crowley had been left in charge of Device's Divinations, which consisted of them sitting at the table and staring across the street at the library, hands clasped tightly.

Anathema and Newt returned just before closing.

"Thanks for watching the shop. Was it busy?" Anathema and Newt's hands were nearly pressed together between them, back to back, and Newt looked very dazed and a bit pink.

"Unfortunately not. Just a few browsers. Didn't make a single sale," Azira apologized. "Thank you for all your help. I don't know how to express how grateful I am for you two." She stood and held out a hand to each of them, which were taken and squeezed by Newt and Anathema.

"No need to thank us." Anathema set about her closing routine. "Now, who wants Indian for dinner?"

Once the shop was closed, the four of them retired to Anathema’s flat and placed their food order. Her flat was as organized as the shop, except for the large dining table, which was covered with mail, catalogues,internet printouts, and at least three notebooks. 

“Sorry, it’ll just take a second!” Anathema apologized and began to sweep the papers into a pile.

“Don’t bother yourself! We can eat here!” Azira motioned to the coffee table in the living area, which was solid wood and large enough for the four of them to eat at, if seated on the floor. Pillows were pulled down for cushions and the four settled in to plan and make preparations over a feast from the nearest Indian restaurant.

Azira’s stomach dropped when Newt stood and prepared to leave, taking Crowley with him. She clung to Crowley’s hand, afraid to let him out of her sight. 

“I’ll be fine, angel. It’s just for the night. No one knows where I’ll be. We’re both safe.” Crowley reassured her, cupping her cheek and kissing her sweetly.

“Take this,” Anathema held a small pouch out to Newt, who took it carefully. “Place it by the front door. Just in case.”

“Thank you, Anathema,” Crowley smiled at her. “G’night, Azira.”

“Goodnight, Anthony,” Azira pulled him down gently by his shoulder to press a kiss to his cheek, then relinquished her hold on him and watched him as he slipped out the door with a small wave back at her.

The next day, they convened at Anathema’s shop before opening. Newt parked the van across the street by the bookshop and Anathema assembled cardboard boxes to store the books. 

“The Them will be arriving shortly and we’ll make quick work of it.” Anathema assured them. “If there’s any sign of trouble, we’ll call.” 

She swept out of the shop and Crowley locked it behind her, pulling the shade down.

“They’re going to take care of it, angel. You may lose the building, but if Gabriel’s willing to make that sacrifice, you can be, too.” Crowley took her hand in his.

“How do you know what they’ll do?” Azira’s eyes pierced into Crowley’s.

“I’ve seen it, I’ve lived it.” Crowley’s eyes grew glassy as he remembered the flames, the heat, the smell of melting rubber.

“What did they do?” Azira asked, pulling Crowley over to the table and settling them into chairs, pulled knee to knee.

“I told you that they found me in my hotel room, thought they had me pinned in there, but I had an escape plan already in place. I got out and managed to get to my car, but they knew I’d get there eventually. They did something, so it caught on fire as soon as I turned the key. I tried to put it out, but it was no use. There was no saving it, but I could save myself, so I ran until I ended up here.” Crowley was staring at nothing, his shoulders slumping. “I loved that car and they knew it, so they destroyed it.”

“I’m so sorry,” reached up and wiped away the tear that was sliding slowly down Crowley’s cheek. 

“I won’t let them take the library from you like they took my car. They will probably take the building, but you won’t lose your books, and I know that your patrons will follow you anywhere you go.” Crowley choked on his words. “You’re so good, Azira. You shouldn’t have to deal with any of this. God! What did I do?” He pushed himself out of his chair, and began pacing the room, long arms flailing as he ranted. “I show up out of nowhere and force you to take on my problems! You had a nice, quiet life, and I’ve ruined it all! I’ve cost you your safety, your livelihood. And worse, I’ve made you think you love me!” Crowley’s words were coming between sobs now.

“Anthony, I do love you! And you didn’t make me do anything.” Azira stood and crossed to him, but he avoided her and continued pacing, growing more frantic.

“How could you?” He roared at the ceiling. “I’m nothing, Azira! Don’t you get that? You deserve someone who can give you the moon and so far all I’ve done is take from you! It’s what I do! I get close to someone and I take whatever I can get. I never meant to do that to you, but I don’t know any other way to live. I’m so sorry,” Crowley slammed his fists on the table, head hanging and tears falling against the wood.

“Oh, Anthony. You haven’t taken anything that I haven’t offered with my whole heart.” Azira wrapped her arms around him, laying her cheek against his back.

“I knew I loved you that first day, but I promised myself that I wouldn’t drag you into this. That I’d make sure you were safe and disappear, but I’m so goddamn selfish. I couldn’t stop myself, I didn’t want to stop myself.”

“Anthony, my love, please look at me.” Azira wrapped a gentle hand around Crowley’s arm and guided him to turn, still unable to meet her eyes. “How can you say you’ve been selfish when you’ve given me so much? You’ve given me the most beautiful gifts - you’ve showered me with love, you revealed to me my worth, you’ve given me the strength to fight for the things that are important to me. You say you’ve taken, but you’ve given me so much more than you know.”

“_ Angel _,” Crowley choked out, then pulled her in and her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were wide and wet, golden and shining like a sun rising above the sea. He lightly traced along her jawline and cheekbones with one finger, sending shivers down her back. With his other hand, he ran his fingers through her hair, his knuckles dragging along the back of her neck. She melted into him, wrapping one hand into red curls and the other running along his back, feeling the muscles relax beneath her fingers. She lay her cheek against his chest, feeling the strong beat of his heart, and he pressed his face into her hair, her scent opening the pathways of his lungs that had been constricted by grief. They breathed together, relishing in the solid warmth of the body pressed against theirs. Years of longing to be held, touch starved and lonely, are forgotten as they stand together, memorizing the feeling of being complete, of true, sacrificial love, of home.

Crowley’s cell phone buzzed in his pocket and he answered it with one hand, keeping the other against Azira’s waist.

“Hello?” he answered, then he tensed. “What? How? I’ll be right there!” He hung up the phone and dashed for the door.

“What is it?” Azira asked, following.

“Stay here. Gabe showed up.” Crowley held up a hand to stop her from advancing.

“What are you going to do?” Azira’s anger burned, but she stopped and stood where she was.

“They’ve got the books all packed, I’m just gonna help throw them in the van. Apparently the kids are the diversion?”

That they were. The Them stood in a line in front of Gabriel, hands on hips, elbow to elbow.

“Move,” Gabriel commanded. “I need to speak to Miss Fell.” He tried to brush past them, but Dog growled at him, deep and low and menacing.

“Actually, Miss Fell isn’t here,” Wensleydale informed.

“Even if she were, we wouldn’t let you near her!” Pepper chimed in.

“You’ve been awfully mean to her,” Brian scolded.

“Very mean, indeed. Miss Fell is the nicest lady in the whole world and we won’t let you be mean to her anymore!” There was a strange power and control in Adam’s voice, which caused Gabriel to take a half step backwards.

“You’re just children, you can’t stop me.” Gabriel pushed Wensleydale aside, who yelped and fell backwards, glasses clattering to the floor.

“NOW!” Adam yelled, throwing an arm up in the air. Pepper jumped and grabbed hold of Gabriel’s left arm, Adam his right. Brian wrapped his arms and legs around Gabriel’s left leg and the man stumbled to the side awkwardly.

“Actually, that’s incredibly rude!” Wensleydale pushed his glasses onto his face, stood, and ran shoulder first into Gabriel’s stomach.

Gabriel roared and shook Pepper and Adam off his arms, ripping a sleeve in the process. He lifted his leg and began to push Brian away, then yelled again.

Dog had joined the fight, his jaw clamped tightly around Gabriel’s free leg. Brian took the opportunity to remove himself so as not to be hit by Gabriel’s flailing arms.

“Stupid dog! Stop! Get off me!” He hit Dog across the face, releasing his jaw. Gabriel surveyed the damage to his leg and his very expensive suit and turned his cold glare to the children, who had regrouped and stood strong again.

“You tell your precious Miss Fell that she will regret choosing that _ fugitive _ over me. I have more power than she knows and she can’t hide from me forever! I _ will _ find her and she _ will _pay.” Gabriel turned and stormed out of the library, limping.

Crowley emerged from the back room just in time to see Gabriel limp away and the door close behind him.

“You okay, kids?” He ran over to them, checking for injuries.

“We’re fine!” Brian beamed.

“Actually, I think I have a few bruises, but I’ll be alright.” Wensleydale rubbed at his elbow, which had caught him in his fall.

“You should have seen it, Mr. Crowley!” Pepper exclaimed.

“It was wicked!” Adam joined in as the four of them all talked at once, explaining the epic battle with the evil landlord Gabriel. Each child had their own version of the tale, complete with voices and reenactments of the evcents.

“Whoa, whoa, calm down,” Crowley shouted over them. They sputtered into silence. “Thanks for your help, but you should go home now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentines Day!  
All the love and support you've shown me has meant so much to me!  
I truly treasure every kudos and comment you leave me.  
<3 <3 <3


	20. Part 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter is going up later than usual! <3
> 
> Leave a comment to let me know what you think will happen next!

During the Them’s showdown with Gabriel, Anathema and Newt hauled box after box of books into the back of the van. The first load had been delivered previously by Newt and Shadwell, and Newt had already driven another load to the storage unit that morning. The rest of the boxes were packed and had been set by the back door, waiting for the truck to return.

Gabriel had been spotted down the street by Adam, who was on the front sidewalk, trying to spy any sign of Miss Fell from across the street. 

"He's coming!!" Adam burst back through the library doors. Everyone stared at him for a moment, then looked to Anathema for instruction.

"Newt, help me finish loading the boxes, kids, keep Gabriel away from the back of the shop and don't let him know where Miss Fell is! Can you do that?" Anathema already had her phone out, finger hovering over the call icon by Crowley's name.

"We can do it!" Adam nodded solemnly and turned to the rest of The Them, preparing them for battle.

Anathema called Crowley as she and Newt doubled their pace to get the truck packed. Crowley arrived just a minute after the call ended, and started hauling boxes to Anathema, who was standing in the truck, stacking them. Newt was frantically adding tape to the seams of boxes that had been overfilled before passing them to Crowley.

"That's it!" Newt called as Crowley was handing the last box to Anathema.

"Check on the kids, we'll get these to safety!" Anathema stated, hopping out of the truck and slamming the door behind her.

Crowley nodded, sprinting into the library as he heard the truck pull away.

Once he was satisfied that The Them were all safe and unharmed, he sent them home and returned to Device’s Divinations to recount the whole episode to Azira, who fretted the whole time.

"Everything has been moved, angel. Every single book and belonging is in storage. They can burn the building to the ground and it won't matter. It's all safe. I wish you could see it - it's all empty shelves. Absolutely nothing left but dust!"

A dark look passed over Azira's face, picturing her beloved library, abandoned.

"And thanks to those kids, Gabe didn't get much further than the front door. What an army you have! I bet he'll be limping for a week!" Crowley beamed at Azira, hoping to be rewarded with the smile he adored.

“Those wonderful children. I will have to thank them properly." She fell into Crowley's arms, exhausted from worry, a small grin on her lips.

“We will.”

That night, Anathema made another cup of tea for Azira, much stronger than before, which knocked her out almost immediately. She slept late the next day and woke up, disoriented, to find a note from Anathema on the table.

_ Heading to the shop. Hope you slept well! _

_ Weather’s supposed to be good if you’d like to walk over or Newt can pick you up. _

_ -A _

Crowley, Newt, and Anathema were seated around the table packaging a new batch of soaps. They didn’t say much, just worked in silence as the bluetooth speaker played calming music, which Crowley hated.

“Any word from Azira?” Crowley asked, unable to stop himself.

“Not yet. She’ll be here soon, I’m sure of it.”

“Maybe she stopped by the library to make sure we didn’t forget anything,” Newt said absently.

“Maybe. I told her it was all safe, all gone. Maybe she had to see it for herself." Crowley shrugged and turned in his chair to look across the street.

_Thud_

He dropped the bar of soap he was wrapping, which landed hard and slid across the floor. In a matter of seconds he was out of his seat, throwing the door open, and sprinting across the street.

The library was on fire.

_ The library was on fire and Azira might be in there. _

Flames and smoke were already pouring out of the second story windows and the glow of red was unmistakable on the ground floor. He could hear the sounds of sirens growing closer and the shouts of people trying to prevent him from running into a burning building, but he pushed past them and threw open the door.

“Azira!” he called, choking on the smoke. “Azira, where are you?” He yelled, dashing frantically around the shop as far as he would without catching on fire himself. The shelves were nearly completely engulfed in flames. The heat made it difficult to see, to breathe, to do anything but panic. Was Azira here? 

"Go-Sat-SOMEBODY! Let her not be here!" Crowley screamed.

There was a shattering of glass and he was blown backwards by a stream of water from a fire hose. He landed on his back, his head hitting the floor. It stung, yet he felt numb. He lay there for a few moments among the smoke and debris, dazed. When he sat up, the full force of his fury rose in him.

“_BASTARDS _!” He screamed. "_ALL OF YOU!_"

“You can’t be talking about us, can you?” a calm voice came from the doorway.

“Certainly not, we’re gentlemen, isn’t that what she called us?” another voice teased cruelly. Two figures stood in the doorway, wearing old, worn fire jackets.

“Where is she?” Crowley demanded, pushing himself up off the floor. He brushed ash out of his eyes and stormed toward the exit, fists clenched.

“Dunno, that wasn’t part of the job description. Though, I thought I heard someone upstairs just before the fire started.” The men laughed.

“I’ll kill you!” Crowley cried, trapping one of them against the door frame by his neck. He sputtered and flailed, but Crowley's fury held him firm.

“That’s no good,” Hastur said calmly. “Won’t bring her back, will it?”

“She’s not gone!” Crowley bellowed, tightening his hold on Ligur’s throat. "Tell me she's not gone!" His voice cracked, sobs fighting their way up his throat, swollen from smoke and anger.

“Now now, Crowley. Is this what she would have wanted?” Hastur stepped closer to him, hidden from the view of the firemen by the smoke billowing out of the doors. “Wouldn’t she want you to be kind? She believed in you, Crowley, she loved you. What kind of man would she want you to be?” His voice was quiet and cruel in Crowley’s ear, but his words worked and Crowley crumpled, freeing Ligur, and falling to the floor.

“There, there. It’ll be alright. Come with us, we’ll get you cleaned up.” Hastur lifted Crowley to his feet and half dragged him away from the library.

Azira got dressed as quickly as she could and decided to walk to the shop instead of getting a ride. She hoped that a walk would clear her head and ease the anxiety that had settled in the pit of her stomach.

As she walked, she felt the peculiar sensation of being watched, so she quickened her pace. She didn’t see anyone when she glanced over her shoulder, but she decided it was better not to take any chances. She took the ‘scenic route’, darting down alleys, and taking smaller streets, to try to throw off her pursuer, but the feeling of being followed never wavered. She decided to try to sneak into the shop through the back door, coming at it from behind and avoiding the busy street between it and the library.

She threw open the door and bolted it behind her. She pressed her forehead to the wood and took a few steadying breaths.

“Azzzzzira,” an unfamiliar voice spoke.

“Hello?” She spun around, but didn’t see anyone.

“Itzzzzz so nizzzzze to meet you,” the voice said, buzzing.

Azira wanted to run, but there was nowhere to go. Her pursuer was just outside the door, she was sure of it, and this voice was between her and the front door.

“Who are you?” She steeled herself and squared her shoulders, stepping forward. They were in the back room of the shop, next to the nursery. It was dim, but Azira could see a silhouette in the doorway. They were small, but stood tall, an air of command.

“Don’t you know? I’m zzzzzurprizzzed that Crowley didn’t tell you all about me. I’m hurt.” They stepped forward and flipped the light switch by the door. “My name izzzz Beelzzzzz. I’m your boyfriendzzzz bozzzzzz.”

Like Crowley, they dressed all in black, with a dark red scarf draped around their shoulders. They had dark, shaggy hair and eyes that seemed almost insect-like, deep and intense and frightening.

“Where is Crowley?” Azira demanded, sounding far braver than she felt.

“Buzzzzy. But letzz not talk about him.” Beelz’s attempt at casual talk made Azira feel sick. 

“What do you want?”

“Juzzzzt to talk,” Beelz attempted to smile, but it seemed a foreign concept.

“I won’t talk to anyone until I know that Crowley’s okay!” Azira’s hands were clenched in fists, every muscle tensed. She felt a presence come up behind her, grabbing her arms and pinning them behind her back. A hand reached around to hold a small bottle under her nose and she could feel the black begin to swirl around her vision. “And Anathema and Newt!” She added, realizing that they weren’t here and panicking for their wellbeing as well.

“They’re all acrozzz the zzztreet. Quite a commotion out there.” A hideous smirked played across their features.

“What happened?” Azira was fading.

“Don’t worry about them. Just zzzzzleep.”

Everything went dark.


	21. Part 20

Crowley felt like his chest was crumbling into dust. He couldn’t catch his breath between the smoke and ash that filled his lungs and the horror and dread in his stomach. His heart was trying to race, to kick him into fight or flight mode, but it felt like lead, heavy and metallic, barely beating. 

He was dragged to a car, thrown into the backseat and whisked away to headquarters, curled into a ball in the backseat the whole way. He was shutting down. He was aware he was shutting down and didn’t care. Azira was gone. She was gone and he hadn’t been there to save her. He had broken his promise, he had  _ failed _ her. 

He wished he had gone in the fire, too. At least they’d have gone together. 

No, there’s no way he would end up in the same place as his angel. Didn’t much matter though, he felt like he was already there.

“Oh, cheer up, Crowley. It wasn’t like you had a future with her, anyway.” Hastur grinned maliciously over his shoulder.

“We’re inevitable,” Ligur added, glancing back in the rear view.

Crowley said nothing, just pulled his knees tighter against his chest.

“Shit, you really loved her didn’t you?” Hastur looked concerned for a moment, then burst out into cruel laughter. “Who’d’ve thought that  _ our little Crowley  _ would have a heart after all!”

Ligur joined in the laughter. “Did you really think you could take care of’er? That you could give her a  _ life _ ?”

“What did she ever see in a loser like you?” Hastur prodded, trying to get a reaction out of him. “Must’ve had awful taste!”

“Did you see the way she dressed? Like a… what’s the opposite of a slut?” Ligur floundered.

“Prude,” Hastur provided with a sneer.

“Yeah, a prude! Piss poor taste for sure!” 

The two cackled in the front seats while Crowley let silent tears fall onto his chest.

When they arrived at headquarters, Crowley was pulled out of the car and dragged inside, down the stairs, and into the laundry room. The smell of bleach hung in the air, which was thick with humidity.

“Crowley, we have a few questions for you,” Hastur began, pacing the room as Ligur threw Crowley into a wooden chair. He wrapped thick ropes around his wrists and feet, binding them to the chair as Hastur observed.

“You see, we’re  _ family _ , Crowley. And family sticks by each other no matter what, right?” He crossed in front of Crowley and threw a fist into his stomach.

Crowley yelped, but made no other noise.

“Stick by each other, that means no deserting!” Ligur taunted, leaning against the large sink against the wall to Crowley’s left.

“Deserted and left a note,” Hastur shook his head sadly. “Didn’t even say goodbye! To us! His brothers!” Hastur placed his hands over his heart and looked overcome with emotion. Crowley scoffed. Hastur was a truly terrible actor. That’s why Crowley was the one sent in to charm targets.

Hastur threw another punch, this one landing across Crowley’s cheek and nose.

“Did leave money, though. With the note. A note and money,” Ligur pointed out.

“Shut up!” Hastur turned on Ligur and glared.

“Sorry,” Ligur suddenly seemed very small. This was an advantage for Crowley. He knew if he could do something about Hastur, that Ligur would be much less of a fight, might even surrender. Ligur played tough, but he was shit in a fight.

“Deserted us like a coward. Ran away like a child.” Hastur placed his hands on the arms of Crowley’s chair and brought his face nose-to-nose with Crowley’s. “Do you know what we do to cowards?”

Crowley stared at him, expressionless.

“Still not talking, huh?” Hastur straightened up and gestured to Ligur. “We’ve got ways of making you talk. I believe you’re familiar with most of our tactics, but I believe our selection for this situation is quite clever. Don’t you Ligur?”

“Oh, yes. Brilliant, this one.” 

Crowley’s eyes were glued to Hastur, searching for any weakness, anything he could exploit. Then he heard the sound of running water. Hastur’s eyes seemed to grow black in anticipation.

“It’s perfect,” he purred, making Crowley shiver.

Ligur walked over, bucket in hand, and turned it upside down over Crowley, then crossed back to the sink.

“Do you get it?” Hastur giggled. 

Crowley didn’t respond. He simply stared at him, deadpan, letting the water run over him without a reaction.

“Fine. Another,” he barked to Ligur, who brought over another bucket of water, dumping it over him. “Tell me you understand. Tell me you appreciate my genius!” Hastur pleaded, an evil glint in those nearly black eyes. “It’s water!” He exclaimed, unable to hold back any longer. ‘She got fire, you get water. Water could have saved her, but it’ll destroy you!” Hastur threw his head back and cackled. Crowley’s stomach flipped.

“A stroke of demonic genius if you ask me!” Ligur interjected.

Crowley blanched. If his limbs hadn’t been tied to a chair, they would have failed him and let him crumple to the floor. He felt sick.

“Oh, that’s a bit of a reaction.” Hastur sounded gleeful, sticking his face in Crowley’s again. “But still not enough. Let’s move to phase two, shall we?”

Ligur grinned wide and wicked and grabbed half the chair, while Hastur grabbed the other half. They lifted him and carried him over to the sink, setting him down just in front of it.

“The bucket was just part one, just a teaser for the main event, really.” Hastur stepped back and watched Crowley, tracking any expression, though Crowley gave him none. “You sure you don’t want to say anything? Defend yourself? Recommit yourself to the boss? No?” Hastur shrugged and nodded to Ligur, who tipped Crowley’s chair back until it hit the edge of the sink. He grabbed a handful of red hair and wrenched his head back.

“Now, this may be a bit uncomfortable,” Ligur smiled and turned on the faucet, pouring water straight into Crowley’s face. He tried to turn his head, but Ligur’s hands were strong, keeping him in place. He pulled at his restraints, but it was no use.

“He’s fighting! Stop!” Hastur called and the water stopped. “Want to talk now?”

Crowley sputtered and coughed, but didn’t speak. He glared at Hastur as much as he could from this awkward angle.

“No? We’ll keep doing this until you speak or you’re dead. Doesn’t matter which. Again.” Hastur looked bored at the thought that this might go on for a while.

Crowley heard the squeak of the faucet handle and the water came down once again. Thankfully he knew what was coming and had been able to take a breath before it hit, making it a touch less awful this time around. He wondered how long he’d have to hold his breath for them to think he was dead. He doubted he could hold it that long.

The water stopped shortly after Crowley started to fight for breath and he tried to pull at his restraints again. Why was he fighting? Azira was gone. What was there left to fight for?

“Hastur,” came a strange voice.

He felt Ligur’s hand leave his hair and he was jolted upright. He shook the water from his eyes and peeked out to see someone standing in the doorway.   
“Michael! What are you doing here?” Hastur demanded.

She was tall and severe, wearing a grey suit over a crisp white blouse, her hair piled on top of her head, accentuating her sharp cheekbones.

“I heard you had him, so I came to see.” She crossed the room with a few  _ click _ s of her heels on the cement floor and carefully examined Crowley’s face. “So you’re the one that’s been causing all the fuss.” She ran a long nail along his cheek and he pulled away.

“I thought you said you were going to take away his reason to fight,” she straightened up and crossed back to Hastur.

“We did. Burned the library with the girl inside. Dunno why he’s still fighting.” Hastur shrugged.

“The girl? No, she wasn’t in the library,” Michael furrowed her brow.

“Yeah she was! We heard her moving around upstairs when we set the fire!” Ligur insisted.

“I don’t know what you heard, but it wasn’t her. Gabriel’s on his way to see her now. Beelz , well, arranged a meeting.”

“Are you sure?” Crowley croaked, his head slumped down to his chest, his hair hanging in sheets around it, blocking it from view. “Azira’s alive?”

“Aw, shit!” Hastur muttered under his breath.

“Yes,” Michael crossed to him, sitting back on her heels to be at his level. “For now. They’ve got plans to take care of that.”

Crowley’s head shot up, red hair flying back, his golden eyes slitted and dangerous.

“Guess I’ll just have to crash their party.”


	22. Part 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's going up early because tomorrow is my birthday!! :)

Azira’s head was throbbing. She cracked one eye open and found she was in a dim room. It seemed quite large, the only light was peeking in from the dust-encrusted windows that ran in a narrow row along the top of the walls. She felt the hard planes of a metal folding chair under her and at her back and tried to move her hands, but found that they were immovable. She felt the rough braid of rope at her wrists and ankles, tied so tightly she could barely wiggle her fingers and toes. She tried to loosen them, but gave up after a minute. 

“Hello?” she called and it echoed back at her. The room must be large and empty to create that kind of echo. 

“Welcome back Azzzzira.” The response made her shiver.

“Where am I?” She used her stern librarian voice to mask the fear that was making her tremble.

“Juzzzt a little plazzze I call home. Nothing much, but it getzzz the job done.” 

Azira could see a figure circling her. Beelz, Crowley’s boss, but she could see another figure lurking nearby, presumably the one who had knocked her out.

“What do you want with me? And why is it so dark in here?” The dimness was starting to strain her eyes and her nerves.

“No need to get to tenzzze, zzzweetheart.” Beelz taunted. “Lightzzz,” they commanded the other shape in the room. The lights were flipped on and Azira squinted at the sudden change. She was sitting in the center of a large warehouse, huge and grey and empty, pillars placed throughout the room. Azira saw the other being in the room, emerging from behind one of the pillars. They had dark hair, done up in a strange sort of dual mohawk, and wore heavy eyeliner. He dressed in all black, Azira wondered if there was a dress code here or if it was just preference, and his jacket was covered with metal studs and chains. He smirked at Azira, looking her over in a way that made her stomach churn.

“Hey, boss, I just had an idea. What if I kissed her? Bet she’d hate that. Looks like a total prude, bet she’d get all fidgety. Bet she’s never even kissed anyone.” He was smiling, clearly not taking any of this seriously, or perhaps enjoying it too much.

“Oh, I’ve heard zzzhe hazzzzzz,” Beelz buzzed. “Heard zzzhe wazzz zzzznogging Crowley.”

“Crowley!?!” the other one cried, staring at Beelz, his jaw dropped and eyes wide. “Crowley kissed  _ her _ ?” He spun on Azira and smacked his hands down on the back of the chair on either side of Azira’s head. “Crowley kissed you? Did you like it?” 

Azira blushed, earning a guffaw from her interrogator.

“You  _ liked _ it! You like him! Oh my god! Crowley, who never liked  _ anyone _ , even those hot twins, remember those Beelz? Smokin! But no, he goes out and finds the most old-fashioned goody two shoes in London and falls for her? HA!” He paced around, gesticulating wildly and howling with laughter.

“Stop it!” Azira said sternly, unheard over his laughter. “I said STOP IT!” she yelled.

He stopped and stared at her.

“I think I will kiss you. You won’t like it and neither will Crowley - it’s a win-win!” He made his way slowly over to her chair, his eyes dragging over her again. Azira looked to Beelz, but they didn’t react, seemingly disinterested. Azira closed her eyes for a moment, picturing Crowley’s face. She opened her eyes as he moved himself nose to nose with her, and she could feel the rage burning in her eyes, her lips pressed together. She smirked, her lips pulling up one side at the thought of what Crowley would do if he was here, of what she would do if she wasn’t restrained. He blanched and pushed away, stumbling backwards.

“I should be going, actually.” 

“Go zzzee if our guezzzt hazzz arrived,” Beelz instructed.

“Guest?” Azira couldn’t help but ask as he disappeared to let the guest in.

“I believe you’ve met, actually. He didn’t want to mizzzzz the zzzhow.”   
“It is sure to be a blast. Or, as the kids say nowadays, lit.” A familiar voice echoed through the room, sending shivers down Azira’s spine. 

“How are you, Miss Fell? A little tied up at the moment, it would seem.” Gabriel sneered down at her, towering over her in his usual grey suit. “Is it ready?”

“Yezzz,” Beelz moved to Gabriel’s side with a series of quick clicks against the cement floor. “Juzzzt waiting for you to join uzzzz.”

“You look confused, Miss Fell. Let me explain,” Gabriel strode around Azira as he spoke, trailing a finger along the back of her chair and twirling in her hair briefly. “You lied to me. You’re a terrible liar, do you know that? After you lied to me I started investigating. Found the name Anthony J. Crowley quite easily. Once I started asking questions about him specifically, Beelz reached out to me, set up a meeting. They told me  _ all _ about your beloved Anthony.” Azira grimaced at Gabriel’s casual use of the name. “About his life of failure and crime. How he deserted his mother in his youth and deserted the people who raised him, taught him, tried to make him a better man, but he was weak.”

“He was not weak!” Azira growled. “He was trying to leave the people that took advantage of him, forced him to do things he didn’t want to do! He just wanted to start fresh, choose his own path!” 

“Izzz that what he told you?” Beelz grinned unsettlingly. “Don’t believe everything he zzzayzzz. He wazzz our bezzzt liar, could make anyone believe anything. Never did anything he didn’t want to.”

“That’s not true!” Azira insisted.

“Miss Fell, please calm down. It won’t help to be hysterical. Best to just accept that you were tricked.” Gabriel spoke calmly, plainly, coldly. He stood behind her chair, facing away from her.

“If I remember correctly, you have no family, is that right?”

“Y-yes.” Azira stammered.

“That does make things easier. Though we will have to watch their friends across the street, the witch and her goon.” Gabriel addressed Beelz, moving to stand in front of Azira with two long strides.

“Eazzzy,” Beelz buzzed gleefully.

“No!” Azira cried. “Leave them out of this!”

“Don’t worry. We will only act if provoked.” Gabriel stated as if this were a kindness. He turned to face Azira and sneered at her. “Now, make your peace. It would have been far more poetic if you had perished with the library, but we can remedy that in a way.” He leaned down and began to untie her restraints. “Do you know your Bible verses, Miss Fell? I know you were raised in church.”

“Some,” Azira choked out. She was beginning to panic now. She had to get out of here. She had to find Anthony, to hold his hand and face all this together.

“Do you know Numbers chapter 11?” he asked, releasing the bindings of her wrists and kneeling to remove the ones at her ankles.

“No.”

“ Then fire from the Lord burned among them and consumed,” he quoted, staring up at her with bloodlust in his eyes. Azira’s head spun, her mouth went dry, her stomach squirmed, and her heart beat furiously against her chest. Fire. Execution by fire. There would be no surviving this. She had assumed torture, had even been prepared for it, but this was unexpected. This was the end.

“Enough. It izzz time,” Beelz announced.

“So it is,” Gabriel smiled politely at Azira as he removed the bindings from her feet and offered her his hand.   
She stood and walked past him, shoulders squared. If she was going to die, she’d at least do it proudly, even if just to spite Gabriel. She wouldn’t be seen as a coward any longer. She would stand tall and walk into the fire thinking of nothing but Crowley.

“Up there.” Beelz pointed to a small wooden platform behind Azira’s chair. It was less than a foot from the floor and a thick wooden post stood in the middle of it, rising six or seven feet in the air. Azira swallowed hard and marched onto it, wrapping her arms around the pole behind her back and waited.

Gabriel followed her, ropes still in hand, and tied her to the post. 

“You think you’re brave don’t you?” he breathed in her ear. “You’re foolish, stupid. Choosing him, disobeying my order, giving up your life.” 

“Better to reign in Hell, than to serve in Heaven,” Azira recited. “Especially if Heaven has you.”

Gabriel snarled and pulled the rope tight. He tied the knot and bolted around to face Azira, lowering himself to be nose to nose with her. 

“Was it worth it? Was  _ he _ worth it?”

“Oh, yes.” Azira flashed a maniacal smile and spit in Gabriel’s face.

He staggered back off the platform, grunting and wiping at his cheek.

“You won’t be reigning, but I’m sure you’ll end up in hell. And I’m sure you’ll have a happy reunion with your boyfriend when you get there.”

He pulled a lighter from his pocket, lit it, and tossed it into the kindling below the platform.


	23. Part 22

Crowley growled, shifted forward, and ran, still strapped to the chair. He knocked Michael aside and went straight for Hastur, slamming into his stomach and sending him flying backwards. Ligur tried to grab him from behind, but the smooth legs of the chair slipped from his fingers as Crowley shifted out of his grip. He turned and stomped on Ligur's foot, which wasn’t tough or elegant, but there wasn’t much else he could do with his arms bound. 

Michael was standing now, staring at him from beside the sink. Hastur grabbed the back of the chair and pulled Crowley backwards, sending him crashing against the wall. He cried out in pain. The chair fell to pieces from the impact, bruising him along his back and shoulders, but he had regained the use of his arms, with the added benefit of being able to use his full height, so he would take it.

He straightened up and moved into his fighting stance.

“You think you can beat me?” Hastur laughed, widening his stance as well. “I’m the one who taught you everything you know! I know what you’re going to do before you do it.”

“Not everything, Hastur. You think you know me so well, but I’ve been lying to you for years. You have no idea what I’ll do. You’ve never loved anyone. You couldn’t possibly understand the lengths I’d go to protect her.” Crowley dropped his hands to his sides and crossed the space between him and Hastur, defenseless, yet more intimidating than he’d ever been.

Hastur stumbled backwards. “You’ll never get out of here.”

“I’ve escaped you before and I’ll do it again.” Crowley’s voice was quiet and even, no hint of worry or fear. He was sure, confident, dangerous, a man on a mission.

“You can’t take on everyone in the building!” Ligur stood by Hastur’s side.

“I’ve never tried that before, but I wouldn’t turn down the challenge.” Crowley advanced on them and they moved backwards, step for step. “Now, if you two _ gentlemen _,” he sneered, “would be so kind, I’ve got somewhere to be.”

Before either could retort, Crowley struck. He took hold of Ligur’s collar and smashed his head against the counter, knocking him out. Crowley released his hold and watched as Ligur slid to the floor. Hastur screamed, wild, high pitched, and prolonged. Crowley threw one solid punch to his screaming jaw, sending him tumbling to the floor.

He turned to Michael, who raised her hands in surrender. 

“Michael, duuuuuuude,” Crowley smirked. “Hand me a towel, will you?”

Michael blindly felt along the counter until she felt the terrycloth beneath her fingers, never taking her eyes from Crowley’s surely manic face. She handed it to him and he dragged it over his face and hair.

“Any chance you know where they are?” He asked, tossing the used towel back. She shifted her eyes up, then back down at him. “Thanks,” he smiled with a crinkle of his nose and took off running.

Azira’s nose burned with smoke. She coughed and pulled against her restraints, her ears filled with the hot crackling of flame and the cold roar of Gabriel’s laughter.

“You won’t get away with this, Gabriel!” Azira coughed. “People know what you did and they won’t stop until you’ve been stopped!” She twisted her wrists against the rope, hoping to be able to reach the knot, but she couldn’t find it. Her eyes watered and her vision was hazy with smoke.

“Your friends have nothing against me. I’ll get away with this same as with everything else I do. But, I have to say, this is quite satisfying.”

“How many others? How many others have you hurt? Murdered?” Azira bellowed.

“Whoa,” Gabriel held up his hands, “that’s strong language, Miss Fell.”

“And what do you call this?” Azira yelled, panicking, praying for Crowley, praying for anyone to help.

“A necessary evil,” Gabriel replied coldly.

“Necessary evil!” Azira sputtered. “_Necessary evil _?”

“Yes. Why are you still talking? Why is it taking so long?” Gabriel began throwing match after match on the platform, trying to speed things up. 

“The punizzzment hazzz been given. We can leave.” Beelz’s voice barely rose above the crackle of flame.

“No,” Gabriel waved them off. “I want to see it.”

“Zzzzuit yourzzzelf,” Beelz shrugged and started toward the door.

“Yes, Gabriel, stay and witness your selfishness! See what your need for power and control has done to you!” Azira choked out. “It has twisted you, made you a monster!”

“Shut your stupid mouth and die already!” Gabriel roared, climbing onto the platform, his hands clutching around Azira’s throat. “I gave you everything you had, took you in after your parents died, and this is the thanks I get? Throwing yourself at that _ demon _?”

“He’s not a demon! He’s a better man than you -”

Gabriel tightened his grip on her throat as the flames grew closer.

“Don’t you dare!” He leaned down so they were eye to eye. “I only ever asked for your loyalty, _ Azira _. I could have given you so much more, if only you applied yourself, worked harder, made yourself better.” His words were low, whispered against Azira’s ear, his lips brushing against her cheek.

“I didn’t want more! And I certainly don’t want you!” Azira pulled her head away.

Gabriel circled her, stepping to the back of the platform, where the flames had not yet reached, pressing up against the pole and running his hands down her arms.

“No, you never did. I suppose I shouldn’t be insulted. You’ve always had awful taste.” He grinned and pressed his cheek against her hair.

Azira brought one foot up behind her and kicked as hard as she could while her hands latched onto his tie. Gabriel yelled and pulled back, his tie keeping him in place. He reached up and pulled at the know, freeing himself and leaving the tie in Azira’s hands.

“You bitch! That was your last chance. Nothing can save you now!” Gabriel jumped down from the platform and circled around front again. “I’ll enjoy the show, but promise me you’ll scream. It’s better that way.”

Azira’s hands shifted along the tie until she found what she was looking for. The ridiculously ornate tie pin in the shape of two golden wings. She undid the clasp and let the tie fall to the platform, then started hacking away at the ropes as quickly as she could. The flames were nearly upon her and the smoke was heavy. She was growing tired, her eyes closed as she worked on her bonds. 

“Don’t tell me you’ve gone already!” Gabriel called, sounding manic, gleeful.

“You can’t get rid of me that easy,” Azira tried to call, but her voice was weak, lost to the roar of the steadily advancing fire. She felt the first of the flames against her legs and she cried out.

Gabriel reacted gleefully. “That’s it, girl!”

“That’s it, indeed,” Azira smiled to herself as she pulled one hand free of her bonds, pulling the rope away from her other wrist. The fire had weakened the bonds at her ankles, so she was able to drag herself away, across the back of the platform. She slid herself down to the floor, crawling away a few yards before collapsing to the floor.


	24. Part 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Accidentally posted 2 chapters today... oops!  
Final chapter coming this weekend

“AZIRA?” Crowley yelled as he ran through the building. He knew Azira was here, but not where. “Could have been a little more specific,” he muttered, throwing doors open as he moved down the hallway. The building was fairly large with six floors - it could take hours to search it and he knew he didn’t have very long to find Azira.

He rounded a corner and ran face-first into Beelz, sending them both sprawling.

“Crowley! What are you doing?” Beelz clambered to the nearest wall and up to standing.

“Where issss ssssshe?” Crowley hissed, grabbing Beelz by the collar.

“Warehouzzze,” Beelz’s eyes were dark, warning. Crowley knew he might be too late.

He dropped Beelz and sprinted down the hall, wrenching open the door. He fell to his knees as the smoke and heat hit him. 

“No,” he whispered, seeing the flames. “Not again.” He fought back his sobs and ran into the room, crouching down to stay below the rising smoke. “Azira!! Azira! Where are you?”

“She’s gone!” Gabriel screamed, whether in anger or triumph, it was hard to say.

“NO!” Crowley launched towards the voice. He collided with Gabriel and his hand wrapped around his throat. “I’ll kill you!!!” 

Gabriel tried to fight back, but the adrenaline in Crowley’s system was too strong, his grip unbreakable. He tried to speak, but could only choke out sounds that did not resemble any words in the english language.

“Don’t. Please.”

Crowley whipped his head around to see the most heavenly sight - Azira stood in front of the fire, framed by flames, her hair a golden halo. In one hand she clutched a golden tie pin, in the other she held a length of rope.

  
“Azira!” Crowley sobbed, releasing Gabriel and running to her. She moved towards him, more slowly, but with the same need. They collapsed against each other, holding tight.

“Anthony, my love!” Azira whispered against his chest.

“Angel, I thought I’d lost you!” Crowley released the sob that he’d been holding back. “I thought I’d lost you twice!”

“I’m so sorry.” Azira wanted to cry, but no tears could spring from her dry eyes.

"I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you," Crowley cradled her head against him.

"Oh, darling, it's not your fault! You couldn't have known." She tangled her fingers with his. “Wait! We can’t let him get away!”

She pushed away from Crowley and turned to where Gabriel was attempting to sneak off. She tried to run, but her legs were unsteady and painful from the burns. Crowley followed her lead and tackled Gabriel to the ground, face first. He held him down with one knee, pinning his arms to his back with one hand. Azira hurried over and handed him the rope, which he swiftly tied around Gabriel’s wrists.

“Get off me!” Gabriel roared, twitching beneath Crowley, who didn't budge.

“What now, angel?” Crowley looked up at Azira feeling overjoyed and overwhelmed. She didn’t look good. She was covered with ash, her clothes were ripped and singed, there were deep bruises around her wrists, and burns up her shins.

“I believe now we call the police. Charges of attempted murder should be enough to prevent him from hurting anyone else.” She glanced down at Gabriel with disgust, then to Crowley. He was soaked, his hair sticking up in messy clumps. His shirt was ripped, his jacket missing completely. She could see a bruise forming along the back of his neck. “May I use your phone, dear?”

Crowley nodded, keeping his hands against Gabriel’s shoulders. “Back pocket.”

Azira blushed and carefully lifted the phone out of the back pocket of Crowley’s jeans, and dialed.  
  
“Yes, I’d like to report an attempted murder. Yes, oh, the victim? Well, me, Azira Fell. I’m alright now, well mostly. Yes, we have him. Gabriel. Yes, that Gabriel. There is a bit of a fire that you should probably be aware of. No. we’re still inside the building. I’m afraid we might lose him if we do. Of course. Oh,” she placed her hand over the phone and turned back to Crowley. “Where are we?” 

“Let me,” Crowley glanced at the phone.

“Oh, he wants to speak to you, I’ll just put him on. This is Anthony J. Crowley, and he is currently restraining the perp.” Azira smirked at her use of the last word and Crowley grinned.

Azira held the phone to Crowley’s ear as he gave his information and the address, pressing Gabriel harder against the concrete when he tried to speak.

“Send as many as you can. I think you’ll find a lot of interesting people here. Kind of a base of operations, if you will. Yeah, okay." He looked upat Azira and pulled his ear away from the phone. "Thanks, angel.”

Azira lifted the phone back to her ear. “Is there anything else you need? Yes. No, I think we’ll be alright. Just a few minutes? Wonderful, thank you so much!” She hung up and her hand fell limply to her side, just barely holding the phone. She stood, silent, staring at Crowley. “They’ll be here any minute.” She whispered after a while. 

The smoke was still billowing, but the fire was dying out, as the last of the platform burned.

“Yeah, good.” Crowley nodded. “You’re awfully quiet.” He prodded Gabriel, who laughed.

“This won’t stick. Nothing will. You think you’re so clever, you think you’ll be safe, but you won’t. I’ve got people everywhere. Beelz has got people everywhere.” He met Azira’s gaze as best he could and sneered. “He won’t be able to protect you. No one will.”

“Gabriel, I don’t fear you, I pity you.” Azira stepped closer.

“Pity! _ Me _?” Gabriel spat.

“Yes. You play your games, you collect your prizes, but you don’t know love. You never have and you never will. You will never understand what it means to be willing to lose your life to save someone you love, or the strength it gives you to stand up and fight. Love is the one thing you cannot control, the one thing you will always be powerless against, the one thing you will never know.” Azira stared down at him with sadness, but she had never looked more powerful (or more sexy, in Crowley’s opinion).

The doors slammed open and a troop of police officers and firefighters stormed in. Azira calmly directed them, answering all questions as they were fired at her. Crowley was asked to move away from Gabriel, but he found it hard to relinquish control. Azira took his elbow and helped him to his feet, clinging to one another as they watched Gabriel being dragged away. 

A young police officer escorted them both outside to the ambulances and were separated to be put through a series of tests. Azira’s legs were treated and wrapped, as were her wrists. The rescue workers were endlessly impressed by her serenity in the aftermath of this trauma, as well as her old-fashioned politeness.

Crowley was not so serene. He was fidgety, shifting around trying to catch a glimpse of Azira while the paramedics tried to keep him still, his responses short and clipped. Finally, after his bruises were seen to, and they were sure there was no water in his lungs, he was allowed to see her. She was sitting in the ambulance, legs dangling, not quite reaching the asphalt. She was wrapped in a shock blanket and holding an oxygen mask to her face.

Crowley ran to her and wrapped her up in his arms, kissing her wherever he could reach. She threw down the mask and found his lips with hers, sobbing against him as they kissed.

“Azira! Crowley!” They heard a voice call. Crowley turned around and saw Anathema and Newt being held back by two officers.

“Anathema! Newt!” Azira called, relieved to see them well. “Would you?” she asked of Crowley, who nodded.

Crowley jogged over to the officers, explained that they were, indeed, friends of theirs and that Azira would very much like to see them. The officers shrugged and let them past.

“You okay?” Anathema asked Crowley as they walked. He nodded. “I’m glad.” She placed a hand on his arm for a moment and he smiled.

“Oh, Azira! You’re alright! What happened? We thought you were in the library!” Anathema cupped Azira’s face in her hands as soon as she was within reach, checking her over.

“We’ll explain everything later,” Crowley sat next to Azira, capturing her hand in his. “How did you know to find us here?”

“After the fire at the library, I called a friend of mine that works with the police, told them everything I knew. They told me about your call. Also told us not to come…” he trailed off, smiling at Anathema, who took his hand.

“Nothing was going to keep us away,” she finished. “What now?”

“I think some rest is in order,” Azira sighed, leaning her head against Crowley’s shoulder.

“We’ll figure out the rest later.” Crowley rested his head atop hers and pulled her close.


	25. Part 24

That night Anathema insisted that Crowley and Azira take her flat, while she stayed with Newt for the night. Azira smiled, hoping it was a step that Newt could handle without combusting on the spot.

“Really, Anathema. We couldn’t possibly put you out like this!” Azira tried to protest. She sat on the couch, watching her friend flit about the apartment, throwing some things into an overnight bag.  
  
“Don’t argue with me, Azira. You two need to be together, and you certainly don’t need me here as a third wheel!” She sat on the couch beside her and took Azira’s still-shaky hands. “You need to reassure yourselves that you’re both safe, just be together, hold each other, and, ya know, whatever.” She smirked as Azira’s face burned bright red, then shifted into a serious tone. “I want you to feel at home here. Do whatever you need to do to remind yourself that it’s over, that this is real, that you’re really safe.”

“It’s not over yet,” Azira sighed.

“The trial is just a formality. Gabriel won’t be able to hurt you again. Either of you. And it sounds like the cells are full of Crowley’s former 'family', so they’re off the streets. It’s over. You’ve won.” Anathema hugged Azira tightly, reassuringly. “Crowley will be here soon. I’ll see you tomorrow. Just come to the shop whenever you’re ready.” She stood, grabbed her bag and smiled back at Azira as she closed the door behind her.

A few minutes later there was a hesitant knock on the door.

“Angel?”

“Come in, my dear!” Azira called unsteadily.

Crowley entered, a bag slung over his shoulder. He looked as unsure and vulnerable as Azira felt. He shut the door behind him, locking and bolting it, pulling on the handle to check the hold.

Azira stood and Crowley moved to stand before her. He set his bag down on the floor and straightened up. The two looked at each other for a few long moments, taking each other in, before moving together, holding each other.

“I’m so sorry, Azira.” Crowley’s voice broke. “I broke my promise. I didn’t keep you safe.”

“That’s exactly what you were trying to do, my love. You ran into a burning building to save me.” Azira felt tears dripping down her face. 

“But you weren’t there! I should have known where you were!” Crowley let himself cry.

“That’s my fault, Anthony!” Azira cupped her hand around the back of Crowley’s neck and set his head against her shoulder. “I didn’t call like I should have. I was so anxious to see you that I ran out of the apartment without a thought!” 

She moved her hand down to rub at his back and he cried out.

“Are you okay?” Azira pulled her hands away.

“Yeah, just bruised.” Crowley straightened up and shifted his shoulders, grimacing.

“May I?” Azira’s hands fluttered to the buttons on his shirt, waiting for an answer.

Crowley nodded and Azira carefully worked her way down, circling around him and pulling the shirt off by the sleeve cuffs. She gasped when she saw the damage.

Large patches of skin were red with hints of black. Nearly his whole back was covered with bruises. Azira reached out and trailed her fingertips lightly across the welts, sending a shiver down Crowley’s spine.

“I’m sorry,” she withdrew her hand.

“No, it’s okay. I wasn’t expecting it.” Crowley glanced over his shoulder at her.  
  
“May I treat it? I’ll be very careful, I promise.”

“I trust you.” Crowley’s golden eyes were steady, sure, as they met with Azira’s.

Azira stood and crossed to the table where Anathema had left some salve and healing lotions, as well as a large bowl and cloth. She carried the bowl to the sink and filled it with warm water, then crossed back to the couch, setting it on the coffee table. 

Crowley sat, but his eyes followed her every movement, noting the subtle limp as she crossed back to the table to fetch the salve and cloth, and returning to the couch with a slight grimace on her face.

“I hope this is warm enough,” she said softly, dipping the cloth into the water and squeezing out the excess before lightly dragging the fabric over Crowley’s back. He shuddered, then leaned back into the warm water and touch of his angel.

“What did they do?” She asked with barely any voice on her breath. “Please. I need to know.” She cut off his protest before he could even breathe to make it. She kept working, waiting for him to speak.

“Dragged me from the library and tried to drown me.” His voice was cold and distant.

“And the bruises?”

“Tied me to a chair. Threw me against the wall when I fought back. The chair broke.” 

“I’m so sorry, love,” Azira whispered.

“Small price to pay.” Crowley shrugged under her fingers.

She took the jar of salve and began to rub the thick gel across his back.

“This should ease the pain and speed the healing along. How does it feel?” Azira dipped her hands in the water and wiped them off on the cloth.

“Better. Now you.” Crowley shifted to face her and held out his hands.

“What?”

“Your wrists,” Crowley glanced down to them.

“Oh, no, they’re fine. You needn’t worry, my dear.” Azira wrung her hands in her lap.

“Wasn’t a question, angel.” Crowley took her hands in his and pulled them to rest on his knees. He carefully unbuttoned her cuffs and rolled her sleeves up, revealing the red, raw welts. He took a clean cloth, wet it, and wrapped it around her right wrist, letting it sit there, softening the skin. She shivered as he gently rubbed his hands over the cloth.

“Your turn to talk.” His head was bent over her wrists, but he lifted his eyes to look at her face, encouraging her to share with him as he moved his attention to the other wrist.

“First it was a chair, bound hand and foot, then they tried to burn me at the stake. I managed to get hold of Gabriel’s tie pin to weaken the ropes enough to escape, but not before…” she trailed off, shifting her legs.

“Should probably change those wrappings. I can help.” Crowley laced his fingers into hers, asking.

“You’re probably right.”

“How bad is it?” He asked, kneeling on the floor and carefully placing her legs up on the couch, moving a pillow beneath her knees for comfort.

“I’m not sure. I was answering questions while they were being treated. I think they were distracting me, which doesn't bode well.” Azira shifted nervously.

“You don’t have to look. I can handle it. I’m sure I’ve seen worse.” He began to remove the bandages.

“Oh?” Azira gasped softly.

“Used to see all kinds of wounds. I’ve stitched up knife wounds and bullet holes. This’ll be nothing. I can handle this no problem.” Crowley put on his tough-guy air, pulling a beautiful chuckle from Azira. “Let me know if it hurts too much.”

He removed the last of the bandages and Azira gasped as the cool air hit the skin. Crowley swallowed a matching gasp.

Crawling up her pale skin were tendrils of shiny red burns. He could feel tears prick at his eyes. If only he had gotten there sooner.

“Darling, please don’t blame yourself.” Azira was leaning down, cupping his chin in her hand. He stared at her, unaware that he had spoken those words aloud. “You were the reason I fought, the reason I never gave up.”

“I almost lost you.” Crowley held her gaze as tears spilled down his cheeks.

“No, love, never.” She tried to lean down to kiss him, but winced as she shifted her legs. “I’m afraid I can’t quite reach. Could you please come here so I can kiss you?” She opened her arms for him.

He slithered up over her body, careful not to jostle her burns, and pressed himself against her, capturing her lips with his. She sighed into his mouth and lightly dragged her fingers down his back, then up and into his hair. He held himself up with one elbow, allowing the other to caress her side, tracing along her waist and hip, grinning as he felt her sink into his touch.

“Oh, Anthony, my love,” she breathed as he kissed along her cheek. “I adore you.”

“Azira Fell,” Crowley pulled back to look into her eyes, “my angel, I love you.”

She beamed up at him and he was powerless to resist kissing the smile from her lips.


	26. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Surprise! An epilogue!
> 
> Thank you to all who read this!  
This story was inspired by my fem!Aziraphale cosplay at Arisia and I just had to write it down.
> 
> Photo can be viewed here:

_ 1 year later _

“Hurry up, angel!” Crowley called up the stairs. “You’re going to be late for your big day!”

“I’m coming, darling!” She called back. “Is the sign up?”

“Yes, as promised. Everything’s ready. Well, everything except you!” Crowley draped himself over the banister as he checked his watch. He was dressed in his finest for the occasion - a slim black suit and red button up.

“I’m sorry, I’m quite nervous. I'm not sure this outfit is right.”

“I’m sure it’s great. You look great in everything.” Crowley smiled and shook his head. She really was so cute it ought to be outlawed.

“It’s new. What do you think?”

Crowley looked up to find Azira standing at the top of the stairs and his jaw dropped.

She was wearing a crimson skirt, more form fitting than she usually wore, that hugged the beautiful curves of her hips. She had ditched her knee socks and white oxfords in favor of sleek black heels, just the faintest trace of scarring remaining on her legs. Over her usual white button up she wore a well-tailored black pinstripe vest and her tartan bow tie had been replaced with a skinny red necktie. Her hair was pulled up into a twist and Crowley couldn’t help but run up the stairs to press kisses to her exposed neck, wrapping one arm around her waist, the other following the curve of the skirt down her side.

“Crowley!” She laughed as he attacked her with kisses. “I thought we were late!”

“If we’re already late, why not have a good reason?” He shifted the collar of her shirt to kiss the skin there and she swatted him away.

“_Really_, dear!” she scolded, failing to hide her smile. “So, you like it?”

“Oh, _ angel_, you have no idea.” He purred and pressed his lips to hers. “I’ll show you just how much later, but for now,” he offered her his arm, “shall we?”

“We shall!” She took his arm and he led her down the stairs, through the backroom, and into the newly rebuilt library.

“How does it feel?” Crowley asked as they stood in the center of the room. Construction had finished a few months ago and the two of them had spent many happy hours shelving books, decorating, and sharing meals as they prepared for the grand re-opening.

“Like a dream come true.” She moved away from Crowley, lovingly tracing her fingers over the new shelves, perfect replicas of the old ones. “To own the library, to be free of Gabriel, to have the power to make decisions as I see fit, it’s more than I dreamed I would ever have. And to think,” she crossed back to Crowley and took his hand, “it’s all because of you. Without you I wouldn’t have anything. The library, our dear friends, and most of all, you, my love. You changed my whole world when you stepped foot in here a year ago and I will be forever grateful.” She wrapped her arms around his waist and held herself against him.

“You changed my whole world, too. Never thought I’d be free of Beelz and the gang, never thought I’d have a normal job, never thought I’d fall in love with an angel.”

“One of these days you’ll finally figure out that I’m not really an angel,” Aziraphale giggled against his chest.

“You are to me. Now, shall we let them all in?” Crowley asked, glancing at the door.

“Yes, I think so.”

The grand opening was a wonderful celebration. Newt and Anathema were the first ones over the threshold, carrying bottles of wine, flowers, and chocolates.

“You really didn’t need to do all of this!” Azira blushed as she took the flowers and chocolate from Newt while Anathema handed the wine to Crowley.

“This is a big day!” Newt beamed, proud of the work he had done in the library. Azira didn’t have much in the way of technology, so he had done quite a bit to help them get the library ready.

Nearly all of Azira’s regulars stopped by to celebrate, many bringing small gifts to thank Azira for all of her kindness and generosity over the years and to express their gratitude that she would continue to do so, despite the fire and the ordeal that were the trials.

Azira, Crowley, Anathema, and Newt had all been called at witnesses, and despite all his gloating, Gabriel was found guilty on multiple counts of criminal activity and had been sentenced to life in prison. Then came the trials of Beelz, Hastur, Ligur, and many other members of the gang. Again, they were called as witnesses, and again, all were found guilty of at least one crime and had sentenced to jail time.

It had been exhausting, but at the end, both Crowley and Azira were given cash rewards for bringing down an entire criminal operation, as well as exposing a ring of property owners that had been involved in illegal schemes.

Azira had used most of her money to purchase the library building and restore it to its former glory. Crowley had used part of his reward to purchase a new car, a vintage Bentley, and had fixed it up himself. The rest was tucked away in a savings account.

Crowley was still working at Devices Divinations, and had been made a partner in the business. He and Anathema had expanded beyond soaps and lotions to include selling the lovely plants that Crowley cultivated. The shop was thriving and Azira was extremely proud.

If the grand re-opening was anything to go by, the library was sure to be a success. Local news channels covered it, as well as the local newspapers. There were reporters, camera crews, and photographers who all insisted they get a few minutes with Azira, being sure to get shots of her outside the shop, under the new name of the library: _A. Fell Library_.

Azira’s nerves had melted away to make room for the joy she was overflowing with. She beamed and shook hands with strangers, she laughed and accepted hugs and gifts and compliments and well wishes and never faltered, never fretted, never doubted.

Crowley watched her always, his heart bursting with pride.

After closing, Anathema and Newt helped tidy from the celebration, then had bid them a goodnight. Azira locked up and flipped the sign to closed.

“Congratulations,” Crowley smiled and opened his arms to her. She slid into them easily, sighing into his embrace.

“It really was a wonderful day.”

“It’s not over yet. I’ve got something for you.” Crowley pulled back and took Azira’s hands in his. “You know that I love you, right?”

“Oh yes, darling.” Azira’s voice was so full of adoration that Crowley nearly choked.

“Good. Cause I do. And I’m so proud of you. Of everything you do. The way you love so completely, giving and spreading kindness and joy in even the smallest of gestures. You deserve the best this world has to offer, but I don’t have that, all I can give you is myself.”

“Oh, Anthony! That’s all I want!” Azira blinked up at him with those beautiful blue eyes.

“Well, be careful what you wish for.” Crowley chuckled and fell to one knee. Azira gasped and brought her hands to her mouth. “Azira Fell, if this gangly former-criminal is what you want, I’m all yours. Forever. Will you be mine?”

He pulled a small box out of his pocket and held it out to her.

“_ Anthony _!” Azira was crying, her hands still covering her mouth.

“Is that an answer?” he stared up at her, beginning to panic.

“Oh, you fool! Yes! Yes! Of course! I’m yours forever!” She bounced up and down and gave him that smile that was reserved only for him. He scrambled to his feet and kissed her, spinning her around the room.

“May I see the ring?” She asked breathlessly as her feet found the floor again.

“Oh, yeah!” Crowley placed the box into her hand and she opened it.

It was a simple golden band in which was set a round diamond flanked by two rubies, which sparkled in the light.

“It’s _ beautiful _,” Azira breathed, in awe. “Will you?”

She held out the box and her hand so Crowley could do the honors.

“I love you, Azira Fell.” He slid the ring onto her finger and placed a kiss over it.

“I love you, Anthony J. Crowley!” She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him.

“Only one problem.” Crowley looked serious.

“What’s that?” Azira’s brow furrowed.

“You’re going to have to update the sign. What’ll it be?” He smirked as she smiled.

“I think A. Crowley-Fell has a nice ring to it. Don’t you?”

“Nkg!” Crowley had thought of it, dreamed of it, but to hear the words from his angel’s lips was almost more than he could handle. “Yeah.”

“Rather,” Azira giggled. “Now I think my fiancé should kiss me senseless.”

“I think your fiancé would be happy to oblige.” Crowley growled and captured her lips, promising to keep her, to provide for her, to care for and protect her, for eternity.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on Tumblr: EveningStarcatcher


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